HR 5h Harperweyr of High Reaches
by slytherinsal
Summary: Now that T'rin has Impressed Blue Renpeth, he and L'gal are both Journeyman Harpers at High Reaches Weyr. And no Harper, especially egged on by another, can resist interfering... 9-01-2521 - 9-22-2522
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Ferry, Anslas and Kitiara had cheered themselves hoarse when Tyrin became T'rin by Impressing Blue Renpeth!

Things were just quieting down, disappointed candidates filing disconsolately out, when Kit suddenly froze, a look of horror on her face. Then she burst into wracking sobs.

Anslas and Ferry turned and stared! It was loyal Anslas who put an arm around her first; then Ferry took her hand.

"What is it? He queried."

Kit sobbed and snuffled; and finally got out the words,

"He isn't coming back!" and dissolved into a fresh storm of sobbing. The boys exchanged uneasy glances over her head. Dealing with hysterical young girls filled them with horror!

R'gar had started over to them as soon as he was able, though keeping a backward glance out for his weyrlings. He dropped to one knee beside the little girl.

"What's all this?" he asked gently.

"Tyrin! He's T'rin now!" hiccoughed Kitiara. Anslas and Ferry shared another look and R'gar looked confused. Ferry explained,

"I think, sir, " he said "She's not happy because Ty, er T'rin won't be returning to the Harper Hall" he added "She's got a bit of a pash on him."

"I LOVE him!" declared Kitiara tearfully. Ferry pulled a face; and R'gar's mouth twitched.

"She could come to the Weyr as a candidate!" suggested Anslas. "she might get a Green, too, so they…" he broke off, blushing crimson.

"No." said R'gar, firmly, as Kit opened her eyes and looked hopeful. Her face fell.

"Why not?" she pouted.

"Several good reasons, young one" grunted R'gar; but he gave her shoulder a kindly pat, belying his gruff tone. "A fine figure you'd cut, swapping careers after, I make no doubt, badgering your father to get you an apprenticeship. Dragons have no time for the inconstant."

Two big fat tears fled from the corners of Kitiara's big blue eyes. R'gar sighed.

"Child, you are very young. Even if you Impressed now, I'd be doubtful that you'd be old enough when she first rose. Far better to work hard towards your journeyman's knots as" he added cunningly "T'rin would want you to do. If it is the real thing, it will not fade. T'rin won't drop his old friends, though he'll be too busy to think of anything but Renpeth for a little while!"

Ferry added tactlessly,

"Besides, T'rin never has thought of you that way. He'd be like to leave the Weyr if you had a proddy Green in case. Because it would be like flying his sister Sh'rilla."

Kitiara promptly dissolved again and R'gar gave Ferry a speaking look. The boy shrugged apologetically."

"Well, it's the truth!" he said.

R'gar sighed.

"Well, young Kit, perhaps it is kinder to tell you that nothing T'rin wrote to us in his letters ever suggested that he thinks of you in any way but as a younger, well, er, brother" he told her. "you are both, in any case, over young to be worrying about such things."

"Sir, how old was T'lana?" asked Kit, accusingly.

"Some few turns older than you." R'gar declared authoritatively, hoping he had guessed the child's age aright. Again he felt grateful that his mercurial little weyrmate was happy to take on the training of female candidates and weyrlings. Adolescent girls were strange and worrying creatures, and the less he had to do with them, the happier R'gar was!

oOoOo

T'rin himself gave no thought at first to his erstwhile companions; he was far too lost in Renpeth's rainbow regard, interrupted only by the happy trillings of his white firelizard Prism.. When he realised of a sudden that they would be returning without him his pangs of guilt centred less on Kitiara than on the Masterharper and on the boy Felimmy, one of T'rin's young pupils, whose truculence he had so recently broken through. T'rin felt a deep regret that he had not brought the boy along to the hatching, though leaving him behind had been with the best of motives, not to have the boy accused of being teacher's pet. The young Journeyman fervently hoped that his protégé would not revert to his sullen ways, perhaps feeling that T'rin had deserted him.

As it happened, Ferry made a good job of breaking the news of T'rin's Impression to Felimmy. He was a perceptive boy beneath his rather overenthusiastic exterior, and had noted how the younger boy's attitude had changed since T'rin – Tyrin as he was then – had taken him on his mission to Sunnyvale Hold. Ferry had sought out the lad almost as soon as R'gar had taken the harper apprentices back to the Harper Hall, waiting only long enough to tell Master Robinton that he had lost another journeyman to the dragonmen!

Felimmy had looked wary at the approach of an older boy; Ferry had recently been made Senior Apprentice and sported the rank tassel hung from his apprentice knot with pride. Felimmy, not unnaturally, half expected trouble; though he recognised Ferry as one of Journeyman Tyrin's friends, and so hoped merely to be given a message from his tutor.

"Felimmy?" asked Ferry.

Felimmy nodded, his face closed.

"I think I'm correct in believing you to be one of Journeyman Tyrin's special students?" Ferry asked. Felimmy looked even more wary.

"I'd not say that, exactly" he denied.

Ferry grinned.

"Let's just say for argument's sake that I know he likes you. So he'd want you to be one of the first to hear the news."

"He likes me?" Felimmy's mouth dropped open. Ferry laughed.

"He told me you're a bit like him – something of a loner. 'Cept that we kinda don't let him be that much of a loner any more" he was busy re-assessing the younger boy who was flushing with pleasure at the revelation that his admired teacher liked him. Evidently for all his tough crust, Felimmy was more sensitive than Ferry had realised. He was even more glad that he had come to bring the lad T'rin's news.

"What's the news?" Felimmy asked the question casually, trying to hide the curiosity that overcame his wonder.

Ferry grinned again.

"You know we went to see the hatching of his sister's eggs – her dragon's eggs, that is –" clarified Ferry.

Felimmy nodded.

Ferry went on,

"Well, she had this feeling, so she bullied him into a white tunic – her being his big sister, you understand, and accustomed to bossing him about, be he never so many times a journeyman, and then, well, there was Renpeth!" he grinned.

"He's Impressed? Oh WOW! What colour?" Felimmy's eyes shone with joy for T'rin.

Ferry chuckled.

"What else? Harper blue!" he laughed.

Felimmy was aware over the next few days that the masters and journeymen were watching him narrowly; and he resented it.

Did they think that he would let Tyrin – T'rin – down by backsliding? If they did, he was fardling well going to prove them wrong.

Felimmy took his courage in both hands to search out Ferry and the others to ask their help in ridding him of the bad habits his self-taught father had instilled in him; and was overwhelmed to find them pleased to help and ready to welcome him to their circle! The conversations he had had with Tyrin came back to him, as to how the Harper Hall was now his family. It was true, he felt!

oOoOo

Meanwhile, Master Robinton was very pleased with Kitiara. When her father had broached to him the idea of her apprenticeship – a real apprenticeship not just learning some musical skills with the other 'girl apprentices' of the Blood – he had been frankly dubious. He appreciated that the girl had been fired with enthusiasm after meeting young Tyrin and his good hearted scallywag band of friends; but Robinton had been concerned lest she had been led onward by a crush on the young Harper boy. However, she had been working hard for the eighteen months that she had been in the Harper Hall, and although her feelings towards Tyrin had been evident it had not affected her work. Robinton thought there was every chance he might be able to persuade her father to leave her long enough to make Journeyman before he married her off; and her skills would enhance any small Hold where she became mistress. Things had, however, changed dramatically with T'rin's Impression. Robinton was sorry to lose such a promising young Journeyman as T'rin, as he had been with L'gal; but if the dragons needed them, there was no more to be said. And besides, High Reaches was a forward thinking, not to say radical, Weyr; it would be good to maintain contact and relations through his journeymen. However, with this development, Robinton, still equivocal over Kitiara's motives, had wondered whether the girl would throw up her Turn-and-a-half's training to follow her young hero; and the Masterharper waited cynically for her to ask permission to speak to her father about becoming a candidate after she returned subdued from the Hatching. Yet the request had not come; and the little girl applied herself seriously to her studies! T'rin's group of self-helpers remained intact without their erstwhile leader: and seemed to have been joined by the previous problem-boy Felimmy! Robinton was very pleased and praised Kitiara for her decision to stay, making the youngster flush to the roots of her incandescent hair both with pleasure at the compliment and embarrassment at the thought of how close she had come to letting the Masterharper down in her desire to stay close to T'rin.

The Masterharper never knew how close she came to dissolving into tears at him, however!

oOoOo

T'rin himself had little time to consider the significance of his Impression to his Harper friends. From the moment he was drawn into the joy of shared thoughts with Renpeth, there was nothing else for him. He walked out to the feeding area with his new soul mate as though he was walking on clouds. Renpeth was such a beautiful blue, a true Harper blue, and the most wonderful dragon in the world! Prism added her own joyous song to the song in T'rin's heart, enthusiastically 'helping' by bringing to T'rin the largest lumps of meat she could carry! As T'rin fed the little dragonet, careful not to overfeed, already as well versed in dragonet care as the other young Impressed he realised ruefully that he would have to get to know his new clutchmates from scratch as he had not been a candidate with them! Three of the Green riders he recognised as Weyrbred, some of the younger lads; also a fellow Blue rider, Senestrul as had been. S'trul had been a candidate with the young Tyrin before he had joined the Harper Hall, and at some eighteen turns had almost given up. It had been T'bor who had insisted that the boy should have another chance, for he was a calm and decisive young man. Tears of joy were running unheeded down S'trul's face as he gave T'rin a Thumbs Up! The only other Weyrbred boy T'rin recognised was V'ris, a turn or so younger than T'rin and who had Impressed one of the three Brown dragons.

T'rin also knew by reputation through letters from T'lan two of the green riders, the girls B'lova and J'nara. They were a most unlikely pair of friends, B'lova of the Blood, J'nara a one time drudge; but were utterly devoted to each other. B'lova was still somewhat bloody from the accident on the hatching grounds, but overjoyed to have Impressed Linith! Her family and J'nara's brother seemed pleased after initial upsets; and T'rin was glad. Though he had only been vaguely aware of the fracas, his Harper-trained senses had assimilated much of what was going on through his subconscious!

His attention was drawn to one of the other newly Impressed Green riders to whom R'gar was speaking.

"I'm puzzled as to how to contract Tass" the weyrlingmaster said.

"I thought you'd contract my full name sir" replied the young rider.

"Tass is not your full name?"

"Oh no, it's – it was – Tassarla."

R'gar blinked.

"You never mentioned that you were a girl" he sounded faintly reproachful, but T'rin detected a note of resignation in his foster father's voice and grinned to herself. The girl tossed her short locks.

"Was it relevant to the dragons?" she asked challengingly.

R'gar gave a crack of laughter.

"History repeats itself! No, T'arla, it's not relevant to the dragons!"

T'rin grinned across at this third girl to Impress; and she grinned back. She was a snub-nosed, merry-faced girl with black curls and dark eyes; and T'rin thought she looked nice.

Casting an eye around, he was pleased to see that many of the newly Impressed were older lads; he was also pleasantly surprised to see another Journeyman, with the knots of a miner and the biggest green dragon of the clutch. He and another lad sporting minercraft knots and with a newly Impressed Brown dragonet were hugging each other with evident affection; and the reason that a promising Journeyman should stand a-purpose as a candidate became clear. T'rin was later to learn in fact that B'lan and D'nor, as the new young Riders were called, had been advised by Masterminer Nicat to see how they fared in a Weyr, and preferably High Reaches at that; and had suggested that even if they did not Impress, doubtless 'that clever lass T'lan' would find them challenging jobs within their craft in a place their sexual preferences would cause them no trouble. Both were at the upper end of the permitted age range to stand as candidates, but T'bor had agreed to take them, albeit a little dubiously, and his decision had been vindicated. Green Leviath was as large as many Blues, and would – if she maintained her growth in proportion – require a Brown like Chereth to keep up with her for her mating flights. T'lana had every intention of adding Leviath to the Queens' Wing for her anticipated strength and stamina. Where other Greens attached to the Queens' Wing – those ridden by women for the most part – had to return to rest during a full length Fall, Leviath might be able to remain for the whole time. B'lan would not find himself the only male in the Queens' Wing when Leviath was old enough; new riders were customarily introduced to fighting Thread in this safer position, and T'mon and Denth flew there as a matter of course, the miniature Brown being as full of stamina as any Green and a deal nippier. There was no loss of face to fly the Queens' Wing, or Female Wing as it was starting to be called; it was so successful at mopping up Thread missed by the main Fighting Wings that many groundcrews had sent thanks for the increased efficiency!

oOoOo

Once Renpeth felt less hungry, T'rin felt like taking an interest in other important issues; like who had Impressed Bronze Dragonets. The young harper, hardened as he had been by years living Holdless and his own self imposed fitness regime since acquiring foster parents in the 'soft' Weyr, felt less exhausted by the whole Impression business than many of the other lads, especially the younger ones. Moreover, most had been too excited as the eggs hardened to sleep much during the last few nights! Their waking moments had all been carefully filled too by R'gar, who believed in finding work to prevent idle minds dreaming up creative mischief. Thus most wanted nothing more than to stumble with their new soul mates under sleeping furs, the exhaustion of hatching from their friends also washing over them. T'rin was aware of Renpeth's needs to rest, but his comparative fitness meant he could afford to be nosy too! He surveyed his clutchmates as they all trudged back to the weyrling barracks.

One of the young Bronze Riders, thought T'rin, could only be M'sell. T'lana had spoken in one of her frequent and chatty letters of how H'llon had dealt so successfully with the bullying of young Marsell, a small boy from a wealthy ranking background; and two boys laughing beside him with a Blue and a Green dragonet respectively must be two of the three former bullies who had seen the error of their prejudices and had warmed to the smaller lad when he insisted on sharing their punishment. They must, T'rin pondered, be good at heart; after all, Y'lara too had her opinions of the wealthy and thought nothing of vocalising them freely. Their innate instincts showed when all beckoned to a tired, disconsolate looking boy watching wistfully, for he had no dragon. They were not about to drop a friend just because he had not Impressed!

The other two Bronze Riders were older; one a freckle-faced lad about T'rin's own age who was also looking around, bright eyed and quizzical: he caught T'rin's glance and grinned. T'rin returned the grin; he would like to call this youth friend! T'rin heard R'gar call him M'san; and filed the name in his memory. The other young man was older, T'rin estimated, wearing apprentice knots of the Bakercraft Hall. He looked a pleasant type, and was helping some of the younger ones keep balance as they almost stumbled along.

T'rin was glad that for the most part he would not be stuck with a load of kids! Though he enjoyed teaching, to be back as a pupil in a class with juveniles did not fill him with glee!

Of the other Impressed, there was another boy T'rin recognised vaguely, though he was racking his brains as to why. When the boy turned and the Harper saw his Healercraft Hall knots, it fell into place; and he realised that he had seen the lad about the adjoining complexes that made up the Harper and Healer Halls. He was a chubby lad, much addicted, T'rin recalled, to bubbly pies. He was called….T'rin searched his Harper-trained memory….Jaykey! or it would now be J'key, of course, he corrected himself. J'key had a Blue dragon too, and turned on T'rin such a look of hero-worshipping recognition that the harper boy almost groaned. He managed to smile back, however; and said,

"Congratulations, J'key!"

J'key's face lit up even more, if that were possible in the light of his already huge grin over Impressing; and T'rin heard him murmur to another young weyrling

"He knew my name! he knew MY name!"

T'rin grinned ruefully. He had become used to being something of a role model; it was one of those irritating responsibilities one just had to live up to.

White Prism was also taking a deep interest in the other Impressed, 'her' dragon's clutchmates; and in the other firelizards. There were two other weyrlings with firelizards – B'lova's little blue Trell was in evidence fussing round her wounded human; and a little green was rapidly identified by T'rin as looking to the oldest Bronze Rider. T'rin grinned. A firelizard could either be very helpful to a baker, carrying spices for him; or a disastrous addition to the kitchen! T'rin found himself laying bets with himself over which the little creature was – and vowed to ask V'der, as the boy's name was, as soon as possible!

7


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

As the first crazy, tiring days passed, T'rin started to get to know his fellows properly. Naturally at first he spoke more to the weyrbred lads he knew, S'trul and V'ris; the three much younger weyrbred lads stuck together. That B'lova and J'nara were Logicators gave him a point in common with them – but the girls were so inseparable they scarcely needed anyone else!

T'rin went out of his way to pass the time of day with D'nor and B'lan, expressing pleasure in meeting another journeyman dragonrider; his recent adventures at Sunnyvale Hold had given him some knowledge of minercraft, with the help of his minercraftbred apprentice Felimmy; but he found himself having to explain hurriedly to a slightly pugnacious D'nor that he had no interest in seducing B'lan! Once the misunderstanding was cleared up – T'rin frankly admitting that it was not his idea of good sex – the boys were friendly enough, for T'rin might personally hate the concept of homosexuality but had been weyrbred long enough to accept it in others.

T'rin also went out of his way to get to know the laughing eyed Bronze Rider M'san; but found that although the boy was merry enough and intelligent, he had little in common with the Harper, having little interest in Logicating, being tone deaf and, in many ways, being far less mature than T'rin who had been teaching for some time and who had had a high measure of independence for many years. It was disappointing; but T'rin hoped to get to know M'san better 'when he grew up' as he put it to T'lan.

T'lan laughed.

"Yes, they get younger every turn." She agreed, teasing him.

The person T'rin really wanted to get to know was T'arla.

Once the girl realised that his offer of friendship was genuine and not an attempt to get into her furs, she was more than happy to open up.

She had been one of a band of Holdless, holdless from choice because they hated confinement. Unfortunately both her parents had recently been caught out in Threadfall. Tasarla had debated with herself her choices; there had been no-one in the band she fancied marriage with; she could all too easily pick up what men were feeling. And as she also knew pretty much what dragons felt, it seemed like a good idea to come to the Weyr and see what happened. She had heard that High Reaches took women for Greens; but it didn't seem worth while overemphasising her gender in case what she had heard was wrong.

T'rin grinned as he listened to her potted history.

"And you found out that no-one is put out in the least." He said cheerfully. "Have you told R'gar or anyone else that you can sense other people's emotions?"

She shook her head.

"Should I have?"

"Jays, yes. T'lana caused a fardling great stir when they finally found out that she can talk to dragons – especially as she was totally disguised as a boy back then, before we started putting girls to Greens!"

"There's a story in that, Harper!"

T'rin grinned again. He was always happy to talk about his beloved foster family and extol their virtues.

"It's a long evening story for accompaniment with sweet wine and bubbly pies" he told her. "And I will tell it, don't worry!"

T'rin had a large audience for his tale; a proper Harper-told tale was a luxury not to be passed up! The newcomers to the Weyr were particularly keen to learn more about the people who were to be their colleagues and T'rin also put in a recommendation that those who were interested should join the Logicators. Even those who knew the story were happy to hear it again, told by the silver tongued Harper Journeyman, using the measured cadences of his trained voice to bring immediacy to even a well known tale. T'lana absented herself firmly; she took on the job of caring for such children as were to young to attend, pleading embarrassment at her foster son's extravagant phrases!

T'rin had quickly slipped back into old friendships, picking up with his old crony R'ben where he had left off. He felt, in truth, more at home with previously Impressed friends than with most of his own clutchmates, though the older ones seemed good fellows. In fact, it was the three girls with whom he felt most happy! J'key also made himself a bit of a nuisance, but T'rin was used to adolescents and tried hard to be patient. He also had the happy thought of suggesting to the boy that with his Healer Hall experience, R'gar as Dragonhealer might relish another helper! J'key was happy to transfer his hero worship to T'rin's foster father and his main dragonhealer aide T'ral, Sh'allen's brother.

Whether R'gar would thank him or not, T'rin did not know. But there was only so much he felt he could take from a child with whom he had nothing in common, not even the love of music even his most dilatory pupils in the Harper Hall generally felt!

As well as the odd whole Weyr entertainments, T'rin would sometimes play for his new clutchmates to try to form more rapport with them, feeling as he did, a little guilty at his easier relations with their seniors than with his current peer group. When he did so, T'arla would often fish out a tambourine to play along.

After the second time, T'rin fished out his pipes.

"Can you do anything with these?" he asked.

T'arla gave an impudent little trill, and played a cheerful shanty.

"You should be a Harper apprentice!" said T'rin, impressed at the raw talent.

T'arla laughed at him and tweaked his nose.

"There's a good little journeyman looking for talent!" she mocked. "I've no intention of being pushed around in a craft hall, T'rin. It's all stupid rules of exactly the right way to do it according to some old time idiot's criteria. I just like to please myself and enjoy my music. Life's too short to put music in a cage!"

"It isn't like that at all! I was self taught too, you know!" expostulated T'rin. "And I found the rules hard at first – but now I understand them I can write better tunes and play with more depth and feeling."

T'arla laughed scornfully.

"But I bet you've lost spontaneity" she disagreed.

He shook his head quickly.

"Once you're trained, the rules are just there, like breathing. It doesn't affect the spontaneity at all. If anything, it helps to create what you might not have been able to without that framework."

T'arla threw back her head again to laugh mockingly. It was all too plain that she didn't even want to listen.

T'rin sighed. So much talent left untutored and undeveloped! He now understood how Master Domick had felt about his own early tunes! Still, there was no point forcing anything – and at least she shared a love of music with him, as well as being a fun companion in their dragoncare lessons and in the logicator meetings. T'arla was an all round good sort – a bit like young Kitiara!

The sudden thought of Kitiara stirred T'rin's conscience! He had not done more than scribble a cursory note right after he had Impressed; and now he sat down to write a long and newsy letter to all his friends, care of Kitiara. He was not to know how the little girl fumed as she read his enthusiastic description of T'arla; but Kit consoled herself that at least her idol wrote about this girl in the same terms as he wrote about S'trul and R'ben. Later she remarked tartly to Ferry,

"I wonder if T'rin has ever realised that there are differences between boys and girls."

Ferry looked surprised.

"Jays, of course he has! Don't you remember how smitten he was with Trayse? And there were at least two girls in the kitchen who were um, entertaining him, I'm sure!"

Kitiara's face was stricken; and Ferry struck his brow as he realised what he had done!

"I'm sorry Kit – I didn't know you had it THAT bad!" he apologised inadequately.

Kitiara burst into tears and stormed off.

She came to supper resolved to suffer in silence thereafter, her appetite ruined, wasting away for spurned love.

That each of the boys in her circle each slipped her one of his two bubbly pies went a long way to restoring both her jaded notion of boys and her jaded appetite!

oOoOo

When Mirrith rose, a month to the day after T'rin had Impressed, the young Harper was very pleased. With the anticipated search for candidates, it meant that he and his fellows would be promoted to single, albeit ground floor, weyrs. Most dragonets had found their wings to assist their ungainly half-hopping half-flapping motion; though it would still be a while before they had any degree of aerial control and a considerable time before their riders would get to fly with them. T'rin loved to watch the little dragons practising and jotted down a jaunty little tune mimicking the antics of still gawky dragonets. The tune soared at first, climbing sweetly, then fell with a glissando into a cheerfully tumbling melody. Absently he whistled it as Renpeth flew; and noting the fact that the other dragon babes were as clumsy in the air as his own dear Renpeth realised that with only a little alteration the tune would make a perfect fugue, different parts chasing the main theme around and around even as the inelegant dragonets played chasing each other's tails. He could work on it – now that Renpeth did not need such constant feeding – until they were ready to fly together and the next bout of exhaustion came! That would not be for six or seven months, even with the larger dragonets; a first flight lasting seconds only, building up to a minute slowly over a whole month to avoid straining the delicate wing muscles by the extra weight of a passenger.

R'gar was strict about how much flight time was permitted; and was justly proud of never having lost a pair through strained wing muscles leading to a fatal fall. T'rin, remembering witnessing the foolish young pair who had fallen to their deaths at Fort Weyr while he had been in the Harper Hall, was glad that his foster father was so stringent in his application of the rules. And after they had learned to fly, it would be another year yet before they would go _Between_ for the first time, training for the time when they would join the Fighting Wings when the young dragons gained their full maturity at two turns old. There was some room for flexibility, of course; R'gar judged on size and strength of each dragonet, as compared with the size of the rider, as to when each might be permitted to try flight together. Some pairs were ready sooner than others, especially Bronze pairings, by virtue of their innately greater strength and stamina; and when it came to the first flight _Between_ then the common sense of both rider and dragon could be a factor in whether they were permitted some leeway or held back. Some Weyrs, T'rin knew, hastened training if the Fighting Wings were short on numbers, something High Reaches did not have to worry about: but even so, T'rin doubted that it would be the case here, for he knew R'gar's views on sending smokeless weyrlings only half trained to fight Thread! Even with a careful training programme lasting two full turns, many of the young riders would be only just fourteen turns when they first faced Thread; and it would be a testing period. It was the reason Pilgra had started putting new riders in the Queens' Wing for their first few tastes of facing Fall as a fighter; and the initial Blooding by carrying firestone went to the Green dragons that supported the Queens' Wing before the weyrlings carried sacks to the higher and more exposed Main Wings. Certainly High Reaches had an enviable record so far as casualties during Blooding were concerned; from the messages T'rin had heard drummed to the Healer Hall from other Weyrs, the injury rate to youngsters at High Reaches was lower than most!

Of course that did not mean that any weyrling could afford to be blasé; and the first flight _Between_ would be challenge enough, not to say terrifying. He would be responsible for making a good enough visualisation for Renpeth, not merely there as a passenger, a whole different proposition. T'rin hoped he would be good enough; his memory was superb, but worked more on auditory stimulus than visual. Even R'gar occasionally lost a weyrling _Between_ on a first trip though, presumably through a momentary inattention or carelessness. Hence the Weyrlingmaster's lectures were stern, even frightening; T'rin approved. Losing anyone was demoralising for the whole Weyr. Losing a youngster on the verge of life made the tragedy worse. In T'rin's eyes it were far better to put the fear of – well, mostly the fear of R'gar – into the often feckless youngsters than end up having them die of stupidity!

Even fit T'rin had little enough time over the next few months to worry overmuch about future flights _Between_. R'gar presumed upon being the youth's foster father to find him extra duties helping the younger ones to help reiterate lessons the boy had learned before becoming a harper; and to make sure he did not think he already knew them! R'gar also believed in keeping his weyrlings occupied during the enforced confinement of inclement weather; the unseasonably early cold High Reaches winter made dragonets alternately grouchy at being unable to bask in the sun and over-excited at playing games in the crisp sparkling snow and ice on fine days. Snowfall was light and soon gone as the sun was still strong enough to melt it at midday; but it was still snow and made the youngsters silly! With the tensions of confinement, mostly caused by heavy miserable rain, spirits amongst the lads tended to run to the high side too, and mischief was rife. R'gar was ever vigilant to be sure it did not get out of hand!

Mindful of the tale of Mirrith's slide, made when the young Queen had been just a dragonet about Renpeth's age, T'rin was careful when walking near the partly-frozen lake; and it was not he who had an involuntary bath through slipping into the lake on a dragonet slide!

oOoOo

It was not only the weyrlings who suffered shortened tempers in the bad weather; T'rin found himself having to cope with his friend M'kel, when the older Blue Rider wanted T'rin to get drunk with him after his Vorth had failed to catch his weyrmate Y'lara's Tanath and she was flown by T'chal's Breeneth instead. Y'lara had taken umbrage at what she perceived as a lack of proper feeling in M'kel – she had enjoyed the flight well enough, but it had been the principle – and was inclined to blame him for, she said, Vorth getting fat and lazy. M'kel was finding living with his fiery and intolerant weyrmate a little more interesting than he liked. Relations were soon restored to normal, but while M'kel suffered, his friends suffered with him! The lighter side of life had been M'gol's consultation of T'rin about a desire to learn more about life outside a weyr; and T'rin, after laughing at him, had referred the matter to T'lan. The upshot was that M'gol set off with Z'kan as a pair of craftsmen to see life!

Meanwhile early candidates were coming in; and one of them moved T'rin to talk seriously to L'gal.

Masterharper Robinton was pleased – and not a little amused – to receive a drum message from High Reaches.

**DDD** _Journeyman Harper Bronze Rider and Journeyman Harper Blue Rider request permission to train promising candidate as apprentice _**DDD**

Evidently they had found a lad of talent who had not, for whatever reason, been apprenticed. The Masterharper replied

**DDD **_It is the right and duty of Journeymen to pick suitable talent for the craft but obtain permission from the dragons first!_** DDD**

T'rin and L'gal chuckled over the reply; Renpeth was still very demanding, though Solpeth was almost fully grown, a turn and a half ahead of him. L'gal and his best friend H'llon had recently been assigned to the Fighting Wings however, and despite all the training, L'gal was still adapting to the demanding job of fighting Thread at any hour of day or night he might be required. Even though both Harpers were frequently tired, however, from their respective duties, both had been struck by the untrained talent of one of the candidates, the girl Mira, whose sullen manner hid a sensitive soul too used to receiving sneers at her love of music to do anything but scowl at the world.

The young Harpers had met the girl first when Renpeth gave T'rin time to return to the habit of attending Logicator meetings. L'gal and H'llon were some of the Logicators' leading lights; and T'rin was delighted to be drawn into their social circle. He had briefly met, and liked, the Weyrwoodcrafter before; and had admired L'gal from the time before the older journeyman had left the Harpercraft Hall to go to High Reaches Weyr. T'rin was overjoyed to renew a nascent friendship, with now the shared bonds of both being journeymen as well as their shared experience of Impression!

Into the Logicator circle, the Weyrartist Geriana had drawn the new candidate Mira. Geriana had not been backward in telling the two Harpers that Mira played the flute beautifully, though the girl had scowled discouragingly. It did not augur well for an auspicious beginning; but as the girl became more interested in Logicating, it was soon apparent to both journeymen that she had a very quick ear for tone and nuance as well as the ability to mimic others!

T'rin and L'gal had come to an unspoken agreement to hear her play regardless of any protest; and pestered Geriana to arrange for them to hear Mira. Geriana, wanting to help her new friend, was more than willing to indulge in a little subterfuge so that the young men could be around to listen when Mira, more relaxed as she settled in, played for Geriana and her friends. They were sufficiently impressed to sent the drum message to Master Robinton, deciding to ask permission before broaching it to Mira and risking disappointment if the Masterharper should for any reason refuse. With his approval, they were all set to ask Mira if she would become an apprentice! T'rin duly strolled towards the female candidate barracks in search of Mira, revelling in a period of watery sunshine.

On the way a dark girl, pretty enough in a rather sulky way, accosted him. T'rin could think of no other way to describe it; her intention was quite plainly deliberate and purposeful. T'rin recognised her as she altered course to intercept his; T'lan had made several pithy comments about the artist-trained girl passed over for promotion to journeyman, and carrying a chip on her shoulder about it, convinced it stemmed from discrimination against her gender. The normally sympathetic weyrwomen had quickly taken the measure of the embittered artist and had come to the conclusion that it was more like to be discrimination against bad workmanship. Carlinna had not made herself popular when she had made snide comments about the self-taught in an attempt to put Geriana down; and had furthermore refused to have anything to do with drawing visualisations since she believed that the higher class artists only took portraits. There were some unkind comments to the effect that her drawing was not to the standard to give a good visualisation anyway! Geriana was popular and anyone who tried to cause her grief was not likely to find themselves at the top of anyone's list of favourites; and many deliberately avoided Carlinna. She had also had the embarrassing experience of being snubbed by a Bronze Rider, albeit unintentionally; H'llon's painful truthfulness had obliged him to tell her that although she might have some promise, her portrait of him was poor and she should seek advice from Geriana!

Carlinna was a spoilt girl, certain of her own genius and was unwilling to accept that Geri might possibly be better than she!

Her aim in accosting T'rin was to gain an ally who had close relations with those of importance in the Weyr; she felt certain that as an artist in his own medium T'rin might prove sympathetic, and that he had a Blue dragon to fly the Green she was sure she would Impress was an added bonus. Perhaps it was to her credit that even Carlinna did not aspire to a Queen!

"Oh – Journeyman T'rin!" she cooed.

T'rin stopped, and schooled his expression not to look dismayed.

"Yes?" he asked.

"You've forgotten my name, haven't you, Journeyman?"

She actually batted her eyelashes at him.

"I'm afraid so" he said curtly. He had little enough free time and didn't want to waste it. "I can't remember the name of every new candidate."

Evidently she could not –or would not – take a hint.

"It's Carlinna" she smiled. "I so wanted to talk to you because we've SO much in common – we're both craftsmen, both creative, artists in our own ways."

T'rin was more worldly wise than many of the weyrlings his own age; or indeed weyrbred riders twice it. He recognised the type readily, and knew that anything that could be construed as encouragement would be. He had been told by a delighted L'gal of H'llon's unintentional snub, and privately applauded it. He decided to be blunt.

"My dear girl, if you Impress, we shall have a job in common. Otherwise if the examples of your work I have seen to date typifies your work, you have a long way to go before you can truly call yourself a craftsman. I've only studied enough drawing to be able to plan out instruments, but I do know enough to be aware that you should give more thought to your basic technique and less to vain twiddles. Good day."

He left her gaping.

Rianna, Shevanne and Mira were frankly eavesdropping just inside their barracks door. Geriana was not with them; she was with her lovemates. Prisca was not there either; aside from the fact that she looked down on the other candidates, she rarely stirred from her bunk during free time!

Shevanne grinned at T'rin.

"NICE one Journeyman Blue Rider!" she spoke for them all.

T'rin pulled a face.

"I'm not normally so harsh. If she were one of my students, I'd feel I'd failed her" he said glumly.

"She brings it on herself, I'm afraid" shrugged Shevanne.

"I'd like to be sorry for her" put in Rianna "but she makes it very difficult."

"I'D like to ram a paintbrush down her throat" ventured Mira. "But I know what Rianna means. I guess too much praise from relations can be as damaging as too little."

"Do you take encouragement from non relations?" asked T'rin. She looked wary.

"What do you mean?"

"Just that Journeyman Harper L'gal and I were both on the teaching staff at the Harper Hall before we Impressed" - the idiotic smile of joy swept over his face again as he remembered Impressing dear Renpeth before he schooled it firmly – "and we have heard you play. We both hoped that you would accept an apprenticeship."

A hungry look crept over her face.

"A real apprenticeship? A regular official thing? That if I don't Impress you could recommend me to the Harper Hall? You really think I might be good enough?"

T'rin nodded.

"You're good enough alright. No, you'll never be another Menolly, but you're certainly talented. You have no training, that's fairly obvious, but we can teach you all the basics and lot further in our own specialities. L'gal is good at drum measures, Gitar and voice; I'm no slouch myself with a drum and I also do harp, pipe, tunecrafting and instrument making" he grinned. "I dance a mean jig too, but I've never yet won a dance out contest."

A shy smile touched her face, transforming her rather sullen features into something akin to beauty. T'rin added,

"And if by some chance you don't Impress, one of us will fly you to the Harper Hall when we can't teach you any more and bully one of our favourite Masters into taking an interest in you!"

Mira actually managed a laugh at that!

"I've picked up some drum measures from the Logicators" she ventured. T'rin pulled a comical face.

"The Boolean tables! Master Domick nearly went spare at escaping craft secrets until he found out that T'lan is at least as intelligent as he is! The reason for secrecy is to be sure and not frighten people with certain messages – you can guess how some would react to, say, the word 'epidemic'" he explained, seeing her look puzzled over Domick's reaction to T'lan's knowledge of the drum measures. She nodded with quick comprehension at his explanation.

"I really can't think of anything I'd like more than a proper apprenticeship" she told him sincerely. "Save perhaps Impression itself. When do I start?"

T'rin laughed happily at her enthusiasm and clapped her on a shoulder; but wrinkled his nose as he thought.

"I'm afraid I'm bagging firestone right after the break is over. What about this evening? we can use the Teaching Hall."

Mira nodded wordlessly: and her eyes shone!

She was actually an uncommonly pretty girl, thought T'rin!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Some of the candidates were also helping to bag firestone; and one of the lads, a thin undersized boy, scarcely looking the minimum twelve turns, tentatively approached T'rin.

"J-journeyman, I heard you're taking candidate Mira as an apprentice" he ventured, looking almost overwhelmed by his own temerity.

T'rin raised an eyebrow; and nodded. Really, he thought, news in a weyr spread faster than among Harper apprentices – dragonmen were a bunch of gossipy old women!

The boy swallowed, and went on.

"Would – would it be presumptuous to ask if you would hear me play? My – my hands aren't fully healed yet but…."

He faltered to a stop as T'rin took his grimy hands and examined them.

The weals across the boy's palms were nasty; and T'rin's mouth tightened.

"Have you seen Calla?" he asked brusquely.

The boy shook his head.

"No sir."

"Why by The Red Star not?" demanded T'rin, regardless of Prism's squawk of outrage as the mention of that dread planet sent her _between_ momentarily in fright "R'gar!" he called; and the crusty, one-eyed Weyrlingmaster came over quickly.

Silently T'rin displayed the boy's hands to him.

R'gar frowned; and the lad looked even more terrified.

"Why did you not show this to me?" demanded R'gar. "You should not be doing a dirty job like this. And you should have dressings on those welts. Who has hurt you like this?"

The boy's eyes welled tears.

"It was punishment" he whispered, gazing half fearfully half worshipfully at T'rin.

"Punishment? For what? By whom?" asked the young harper.

The boy hung his head.

"My father. He – he caught me with the gitar. I – I'd been making up tunes again."

"You make tunes?" T'rin asked interested.

Two big tears welled out.

"I – I'm sorry, but I just can't help it!" he managed. "They – they just come into my head!"

T'rin stared, baffled.

"You speak as though it were a crime, lad, not the thing to be proud of that it is!" he said.

R'gar cleared his throat.

"Menolly" he said laconically. "Remember her story? Or maybe you never heard it. M'gol was at Benden when she outran Thread. She was punished for tuning. Son, are you a fisherboy?"

The lad nodded.

"HHRMPH!" commented R'gar "get that boy seen to, T'rin, and take him under your wing."

Journeyman Harper T'rin grinned.

"Yes father" he said, meekly, and led the small boy firmly across the Bowl.

"He – the Weyrlingmaster – is your father?" whispered his charge.

"My foster father. My own is dead. He was a weaver. But R'gar has been all to me and more than any real father could" the note of pride he could not suppress crept into his voice. T'rin thought R'gar was the best!

The boy tried to hide his surprise that anyone should hold their father in any degree of affection; T'rin reflected that it would take him time to see how loving families could work, but that he'd soon see enough around the weyr.

"So, what is your name and where are you from?" the harper asked conversationally.

"My name is Lyseder. Do I have to tell you where I'm from?" he asked fearfully. T'rin shrugged.

"I guess not, if it really bothers you. But I shan't go and thump your father for trying to steal a potential Harper by such cruel damage, no matter how much I'd like to – if that's what you're worried about. Some people just can't help having no soul."

The boy seemed relieved that he was not to be interrogated.

"Who brought you in?" T'rin asked, casually. "That won't give away too much. The same riders sweep several outlying communities."

The boy paled. T'rin gave him a sharp look.

"Whatever is wrong, boy?" he asked pointedly; and remembering his own aversion to being addressed 'boy' thus, added gently, "Lyseder, no-one can hurt you now. You are Weyrfolk. Whether you Impress or not, you don't have to leave; and if you are good enough I shall sponsor you to the Harper Hall. I have to say 'if you are good enough' because I don't yet know your potential; but if you feel you HAVE to make tunes, well then, that is very encouraging!"

The lad burst into tears; and between sobs T'rin unravelled something about being sent away and false pretences. He put an arm around the boy's skinny shoulders; but his tone was firm as well as soft.

"Lyseder, pull yourself together and tell me what this nonsense is in a coherent manner."

The fisherlad hiccoughed and wiped a sleeve across his nose.

"Because I stowed away in baskets of fish brought dragonback, I'm not a proper candidate so I'm afraid you won't let me stay" he sniffed.

"Oh is that all" T'rin ruffled the boy's tousled locks cheerfully. "Lyseder, if it is your desire to be taken on Search, it is your Right to come." He said firmly. "And no-one can prevent you. But you have been here – what, a day and a night?" Lyseder nodded, and T'rin went on, "And your parents, however hidebound and harsh must be concerned for your safety if you did not get taken in the regular way."

"I don't care" Lyseder sniffed defiantly.

"I do" said T'rin, grimly. "Because T'bor, who is one of the best men on Pern, could get in trouble for kidnapping if we don't let them know right away."

Lyseder looked horrified.

"Dragonmen can get into trouble?" he cried.

"And well they should, if they've done wrong" admonished T'rin seriously. "Else they could become as bad as some of the Oldtimers. And we need to tell your parents right away that you have found your way to the Weyr and asked to come on Search."

Lyseder hung his head and muttered the information; and T'rin took him without further delay to Calla and her strict but gentle ministrations while he himself went to write a careful letter to the boy's father. He signed it in his capacity of Harper, explaining that he had taken a deposition from Lyseder that it was his wish to attempt Impression and that the appropriate authorities had given him leave to stand as a candidate, it being his right. He sealed it; and went to tell the whole to R'gar.

R'gar groaned.

"Did you check the boy was of age?" he asked.

T'rin's mouth dropped open; and he smote his brow.

"No, father, it didn't occur to me to ask."

"Let's leave it that way" said R'gar grimly. "Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis then folly to be wise. And an oversight is easier to explain than wilfully keeping a lad under age….which I'd be prepared to wager he is."

T'rin grimaced.

"I thought I'd ask Y'lara to deliver the letter. She'll take no crackdust from anyone."

R'gar chuckled.

"And being seabred, there's no language he could use that she doesn't know."

T'rin felt it wise to explain the whole to Y'lara. She had the reputation for being…..short…..with anyone who did not provide her with all the relevant information necessary for a mission!

As it turned out, T'rin's choice of messenger was wise; Lyseder's father lost his cool and screamed at Y'lara. The young Green Rider explained to him succinctly and pithily in short words that he would understand (as she informed him) that she was only the message carrier and that exercising his procreationally oriented vocabulary at her at full volume did no good at all. She added parenthetically that if this were his normal means of communication, and if she were his get, she'd leave home too. Simmering, she left him gaping.

Y'lara had acquired a measure of wisdom in her time at the Weyr, and had learned some sense of her due and her duty as a junior weyrwomen; and when she left the small sea hold she flew directly to Lord Oterel. It did no harm that the wise Lord Holder was a distant kinsman of hers – T'lana was wont to joke that anyone in the western reaches of Pern who had ever got their toe wet in the sea was a relative of Y'lara's – and he listened gravely when she made her report that one of the gross impropriety of one of his minor underlings bad mouthing a weyrwomen, however junior. Oterel sighed; and asked for the whole story, off the record, as he had hastily added. Y'lara summed up the whole.

"The boy is happy where he is?" the Lord Holder asked.

"Seems to be" replied the girl laconically.

Oterel nodded.

"I'll do my best if it looks like blowing out of proportion" he promised.

Y'ara gave him her rare flashing smile.

"I knew I could rely on you, my Lord" she said. "I thought you ought to know what was going on in case these idiots are idiots enough to try to cause trouble."

"And you wanted to get your revenge in first, hmm?"

She chuckled.

"You might say so, my Lord – I'd really rather not comment."

In the meantime, T'rin had checked with Calla and on being adjured not to stretch Lyseder too much went to seek out the boy to tell him to report with Mira that evening. Calla felt that the good done to the cowed lad's mental health would outweigh any minor hurt he might cause his hands – providing T'rin was careful with him. And T'rin was a young man who had more than his fair share of caring for someone with a disability; and was one Calla trusted to take care.

Mira was actually rather pleased to find that she was not the only apprentice. Receiving the sole attentions of two such exalted people as Impressed Journeymen made her feel nervous even though she knew them both slightly from the Logicator debates. She quickly introduced herself to the skinny, tongue-tied boy and exclaimed in horror over his hands when he winced on shaking.

"You won't be able to play properly…do T'rin and L'gal know?"

He nodded wordlessly, a little overwhelmed by being an apprentice in company with a grown up lady. Mira smiled hesitantly at him.

"Don't worry – they're kind" she reassured him. "You can tell that from the things they say at the Logicator meetings."

"What's that?" he asked, interested enough to find the temerity to speak up.

"'Logicating' is a word T'lana invented….it means using logic to work things out about people or situations by really using your eyes and ears. T'lana has solved lots of mysteries for people, even working out who has done murders!" she told him. His eyes were big.

"You can bring him along if he wants to come" T'rin's crisp voice cut in as he and L'gal entered. "No-one is barred from learning Logicating, Lyseder. All you need is an interest. But now we have a more pressing problem of how to test you with your hands in that state."

"I could improvise, sir."

"This once I will permit it. But improvisation leads to bad habits – I know this, Lyseder, for I too was self-taught; and I had to unlearn a lot before I could progress. It doesn't always seem logical – but believe me, there ARE reasons behind every exercise. Very well, show me."

T'rin passed the boy his gitar; and hesitantly at first Lyseder picked out a well-known tune. His playing became better as he relaxed, but pain made him fumble a complex chording.

T'rin nodded.

"Anything else you play?"

Lyseder looked at his feet and shook his head.

"Try this."

T'rin held out his practice harp. Tentatively the boy plucked each of the strings in turn; then picked out another melody. He made mistakes; but it was recognisable.

"Have you had any formal training at all?" asked L'gal. Lyseder shook his head again. "Mira?" queried L'gal. she too shook her head.

The two journeymen exchanged looks.

"Well," said T'rin, "That means we start you both right at the beginning with basic theory. And you need your brain more for that than your fingers. I shall do most of that, because I've more experience with less experienced apprentices."

L'gal pulled a comical face at T'rin over the heads of the two new apprentices; what T'rin meant was that Master Morshall had foisted his least able or shyest pupils onto T'rin!

"I" said L'gal "Will start you on voice training. Even if your singing voices are not good – and few people's really are – you can use them as an instrument to put theory into practice and to tune your instruments."

T'rin looked surprised.

"Oh – I whistle to tune mine!" he commented.

"Yes, but you also sing like a wherry farting." Reminded L'gal.

"Oh yeah – there is that."

The two apprentices grinned. Such a small class could evidently be a bit more informal.

"I'm curious" said L'gal "Why neither of you were picked out by the Harper in your respective Holds."

"We don't have a Harper" said Lyseder. L'gal looked shocked as he went on "Our Holder doesn't hold with Harpers. He says they're lazy good-for-nothings who spread lies and unwanted babies."

L'gal and T'rin exchanged looks.

"Mira?" asked T'rin. She flushed.

"My parents don't hold with girls getting too much education because it spoils them as wives by making them dissatisfied; and wastes Harper time in the meanwhile." She explained with some asperity. "They let me save up for a flute as a hobby because I could always give it up when I get married. As if I could ever give music up!" she added indignantly.

"How did they feel about you being picked on Search?" asked T'rin.

She pulled a face.

"They think they thought it an honour…I doubt they seriously expect me to have any real chance of Impressing, so after that I'm expected to return home and marry well. Or maybe they'd like me to pick a Bronze Rider as a lover; it's a kind of status in itself" she grimaced. "Don't get me wrong, journeymen – my parents love me and I love them, but we just don't have a lot in common. Mother seems to think that having a baby every turn and hoping some of them live past babyhood is fulfilment enough. I'm afraid that for me fulfilment is more than being filled full."

T'rin laughed.

"With a wicked tongue like that, and a fine appreciation of word plays, my girl, you'll make a fine Harper! Yes, I know the attitudes. It's what we as Harpers are supposed to help challenge" he told her.

"Please sir!" put in Lyseder, on tenter hooks, "Do you think that I've a chance of showing you I'm good enough when my hands are better?"

T'rin looked surprised.

"Had you not gathered that we think you good enough already?" he asked. "Your hands must be rested – Calla spoke to me quite firmly about that. Which is why we shall stick largely to theory for the time being. But Lyseder! Even as wounded as you are, you are far better than many who start apprenticeships at the Harper Hall. You'll be just fine. And if you have any tune ideas, you can hum or whistle them to one of us and we'll write them down for the time you are fit enough to work on them for yourself. And when you really ARE old enough to be put to egg" he grinned at the expression on the boy's face at being found out "you'll also be old enough for a full apprenticeship at the Harper Hall if you still wish it."

T'rin and L'gal put the word about concerning the attitudes in Lyseder's Hold. It turned out that he was the first candidate from the small fish-hold; talking to Dragonmen and going on Search was as much discouraged as Harpers.

"Or indeed, any form of civilised behaviour." Y'lara put in.

"You recognise civilised behaviour, Y'lara?" quipped T'rin, and dodged the lazy punch she threw at him.

"They don't like Harpers. They don't like Dragonfolk. Well" said the Green Rider "Within the bounds of our oath to protect them, there are plenty of ways to withdraw goodwill. If they don't want to be a part of our society structure, we are not obligated to make their lives any easier. And without a Harper Advocate they're going to find it difficult to whinge."

T'rin grinned.

"Y'lara, you're a genius." He said.

"I know." She replied sweetly.

Discussion about the removal of goodwill was widespread; it was generally felt that such extremely hidebound attitudes were best nipped in the bud as soon as possible lest others feel they could get away with flouting the law. H'llon came up with an idea and visited the Woodcrafter Hall with it. Master Woodcrafter Bendarek did not hold with spite; but nor did he hold with people trying to ignore the presence of dragonfolk and harpers, the very glue, as he put it, that held society together.

The fish-hold woodcrafter was suddenly withdrawn "for ideas exchange". He was highly relieved by his new posting – learning papermaking from H'llon and teaching boat building in return. He enjoyed protracted trips with R'cal to the Eastern Island possible weyr site; and where they went from there to collect hardwood samples he was never told – and never asked! He could hardly believe his luck to have been removed from that dour, unfriendly cove hold.

His absence would not seriously discommode the hold; most there had some boat building skills. But it made life a little harder. As did the removal, once word spread, of the weavercrafter who spun most of the thread for netting.

After all, most women knew the rudiments of spinning and weaving. But again, it was an inconvenience.

It so happened that the Master Weaver was related through marriage to Master Bendarek. And as the woodcrafter said,

"When a crafter of one type is despised, others will not be treated well either."

It is to be recorded that the journeyman weaver taken from the fish-hold began his next assignment with a hangover from over indulgent celebration at his removal.

By this time, Lord Oterel had received an official complaint that the interfering dragonmen had stolen a child and were intimidating personnel into leaving. The first reply that the canny Lord Holder sent to the seahold was a request that their Harper attend him personally to clarify matters.

The matter was dropped.

L'gal and T'rin did their own reporting of the matter in its entirety to the Harper Hall. Master Robinton was not amused. He remembered too well the way Fax had taken over by discrediting Harpers; and more recently he remembered Menolly's plight at the hands of her backward looking family. He told the young journeymen that they could leave the matter in his hands; which indeed had been what they had hoped!

Lyseder in the meantime slipped into life as an apprentice as though he had been born to it; he and Mira applied themselves diligently to their lessons. And word of the Harper classes spread around the Weyr. One of Keerana's nieces, Keeralda, came to see T'rin and L'gal with her sons, Garald and Garvan, aged eleven and nine turns respectively. Keeralda asked nervously if her boys could try for an apprenticeship.

"They're always playing tunes on things." She said.

T'rin agreed to listen; and was agreeably surprised. The younger boy had more talent than his brother; but both had potential, and he said so.

After this, several mothers presented their offspring in the fond and usually mistaken belief that they would prove to be precocious. T'rin and L'gal firmly turned them down, explaining that a love of music was not the only requirement. One boy only came close to making the grade; and T'rin might have considered arguing L'gal into accepting him but for the lad's attitude. He performed well enough but there was none of the joy and enthusiasm Garvan and Garald had shown. T'rin took the lad, Keet, aside out of earshot of his mother, and asked bluntly,

"Keet, do you want to be a Harper?"

The child shook his head.

"No, sir, thank you sir. My mother likes music, and I guess I do too, to listen to….but when you have to make it it becomes a chore, and music shouldn't be a chore, should it?" he asked.

"No, Keet, it shouldn't" replied T'rin gravely. "What do you want to do?"

"I want to be a sailor!" the boy's eyes shone. "I've heard lots of stories of the sea from the seabred candidates!"

T'rin sighed.

"Does your mother know?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. She thinks I'll grow out of it."

T'rin bit his lip.

"You might well. But meantime go talk to Bronze Rider V'gion. Tell him I sent you." He added as the boy looked awed. "He can tell you what you need to study to help prepare yourself if you don't change your mind."

The boy beamed.

"THANK you sir!"

T'rin could not fathom why anyone in his right mind would rather be a sailor than a Harper; but it took all sorts!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The Harper class swelled officially to four members; all with different levels of experience, but at least all with the same level of theoretical knowledge. L'gal and T'rin were able to work with all from scratch in everything but instrument playing, and indeed it was only really Mira who needed extra work in this field as she was already self taught and T'rin felt that the effort should be made to correct any bad habits she had acquired although the techniques involved were more advanced than the theory she was covering. Garald and Garvan were happy to start from scratch on real instruments, and there was no question of Lyseder playing anything until his hands healed!

Into the class one day marched eight-turn-old Kullana, Pilgra's fosterling and the child by rape of an Oldtimer, T'kul himself if the child's grandmother was to be believed.

T'rin sighed.

"What are you doing here, Kullana?" he asked. "This is the Harper class, not general lessons."

"Yes." She acknowledged.

"Please go back to Pilgra."

The little girl looked at him consideringly for a long moment; then replied again, equally monosyllabically.

"No."

Short of physically ejecting her, there was little T'rin could do; Kullana, like her sister-aunt Takula was a strange little girl, hurt by the unkindness of the woman who had brought them up. The woman had demanded the Weyr take them; she was the mother of Takula and grandmother of Kullana, and as a result of her harshness they seemed to understand little of how to react to people save confrontationally, despite surreptitious affection from the woman's surviving daughter, Kullana's aunt and Takula's sister. A strange relationship with both mother and now dead daughter impregnated by the same dragonrider. Pilgra was making a great deal of progress with both her fosterlings by giving them the love and security they needed but sometimes they could be difficult to fathom! T'rin groaned inwardly.

"Well then, if Pilgra is busy and you have nothing better to do you may sit in quietly, so long as you do not make a nuisance of yourself." He said. Kullana have a little smile at the floor; and sat down. T'rin glanced at her from time to time as he explained things to his class; but she was sitting quietly enough each time, apparently listening. He shrugged and dismissed the matter from his mind.

When Kullana turned up at the start of the next lesson, T'rin frowned; but the child wordlessly passed him a grubby sheet of one of H'llon's gash sheets. On it was a version of the work he had set the class; and though the notation was not conventional, he found it easy enough to follow and essentially correct. T'rin left the class briefly to find L'gal; and showed him the child's work.

The Bronze Rider shrugged.

"So let her sit in." he suggested. "If she gets bored, she'll go away. She's too young to apprentice, but if she can pick up what you're teaching and come up with a way of showing her understanding, she deserves to learn more."

T'rin nodded. It confirmed his own feelings; but he wanted the decision ratified by his senior Journeyman. He returned to his class.

"Your work is good, Kullana" he began with praise. "I have showed it to L'gal and he agrees that you may join the class; but you must learn to write the proper notation. I shall set the others a task and begin to teach you."

"Good."

It was the only comment T'rin got from her; but she applied herself assiduously to learning how to write out the correct notation.

Takula was not best pleased by her sister-niece's defection; and T'rin was interrupted in a discussion about notation by a mud pellet fired at him from the doorway.

T'rin counted to ten.

"Takula, come here."

She stayed down the passage, making faces.

T'rin had every intention of being patient; he remembered how he had felt the need to test the tolerance of the people who had taken him in when he had first come to the Weyr and had been naughty just to see if they were like everyone else and getting ready to throw him out with a beating. However, that did not mean that the child should be indulged in her naughtiness.

"Very well" he said, sternly. "You leave me little option. Prism" his voice softened as he spoke to the little white firelizard "I need you to take a message for me to Segrith."

"NO!" Takula came unwillingly towards him.

T'rin had sometimes wondered if it was the only word the girls knew; though he had got a few more out of Kullana since she joined his class! He asked,

"Takula, your sister wants to learn. Do you?"

"No."

"Then leave her be. If you interfere again I shall have to inform Pilgra and Segrith. Do you understand?"

"Yes." The answer was drawn from her unwillingly. It was to Segrith that the girls fled first if they felt afraid; but they were also in awe of the great Golden Queen. T'rin asked,

"What do YOU want to do?"

"Nuffin."

"Then if you are truly so boring, do nothing elsewhere. Otherwise find something that interests you." Admonished T'rin.

Later there was a very private fight between the two little girls; and apparently Kullana won. The general consensus of opinion in the lower cavern was that it was healthy for Kullana to break away from her sister's leadership; but Pilgra was not so sure that they had the situation correctly. She spoke to T'lana.

"Everyone says that Takula leads and Kullana follows; and it does look like it. But Kullana only has to lift a finger and Takula comes running."

T'lana nodded; she had noticed it too. She had also noticed that the little girls spoke animatedly between themselves and their speech was effectively another language. Her twin sons Rogan and Rofel had their own words that they used just between the two of them. Rofel called it 'twinspeak' and T'lana accepted the phenomenon.

"I can find out what really interests her." The younger Queenrider said, tapping her head to indicate her innate talent for 'hearing' human thought as well as dragon.

"If you would, I'd be grateful". Said Pilgra, relieved.

T'lana discovered that, as suspected, Takula was jealous that Kullana had found a talent and interest outside the pair; and was refusing to give her own talents reign out of sheer perversity. T'lana firmly borrowed her one afternoon and painfully set to work decorating a new quilt with appliqué. As she had hoped, Takula watched her covertly; and finally took the sewing from her impatiently to do it better!

T'lana let Pilgra know; and the bouncy little weyrwomen was able to encourage her difficult foster daughter to help her with colour choices and decoration in her weyr!

Kullana relaxed and joined in more when Takula had found her own interests; and T'rin even got some polysyllabic verbal responses from her! He was a little nonplussed that the single student he and L'gal had envisioned had grown to five – a regular little Harper Hall!

Master Robinton sent a carefully worded request to speak to Bronze Rider L'gal and Blue Rider T'rin; and the young Harpers treated it as a summons!

The Masterharper wanted personal reports about the little cove hold; and the journeymen told him all they knew.

"Which admittedly is not much." Finished L'gal.

"Well, we shall see." Said Robinton, absently stroking his little firelizard, Zair. Prism was asleep in T'rin's jacket having made her greeting to the Masterharper's bronze pet; and had soon lost interest in the discussion. Robinton added, "I have a mind to send a journeyman accompanied by a bright apprentice."

"Sir, I recommend Felimmy." Interrupted T'rin; then burned scarlet at his own rudeness.

Master Robinton smiled gently.

"Now what makes you think I hadn't thought of that young rogue?" he admonished.

T'rin blushed redder. Robinton laughed and went on,

"I had thought of sending Journeyman Sorill – you've worked with him, T'rin."

T'rin nodded. Sorill was a good undercover man.

"But won't you need him for more important trips?" he asked the Harper.

The Masterharper nodded.

"True. Therefore I was considering waiting until I could make up your friend Kister to Journeyman. He's about eighteen turns now, and a lot steadier than he used to be."

T'rin grinned. Kister's practical jokes had been fairly famous – or perhaps notorious was a better description!

"He's got the lighthearted approach to life that will allow him to brush by without taking any insult too seriously." Suggested L'gal. Robinton nodded.

"I thought you two might like to renew your acquaintance with T'rin's fair of scallywags; and when Kister walks the tables tonight, I was hoping you'd take him and Felimy to the wretched sea hold."

The two journeymen nodded cheerfully!

L'gal had old friends of his own to look up, not least Master Domick; and T'rin was left alone with his friends, who thumped him enthusiastically on the back and told him their news at full volume in a combined and occasionally contradictory cacophony. T'rin noticed however that both Kitiara and Felimmy held back. He grinned at the younger boy.

"Glad you like this bunch of ne'er do wells, Felimmy. How's it going?"

Felimmy grinned.

"I'm doing fine." He said firmly. "I can work hard even without you to put fire on my tail."

"Never doubted it." Said T'rin. He turned to the little girl hanging back from the crowd. "Hey, Kit, are you too old and grand to greet me?"

She shook her head.

"Aren't you a little grand for us now?" she asked. "A dragonrider – with dragonrider friends?"

T'rin made a rude noise.

"C'mere squirt." He said; and pummelled her gently but firmly. "As if you weren't still like a sister to me, whatever!"

Kitiara hugged him and snuffled into his chest. Sister! It was too cruel! He truly loved her – the wrong way!

Ferry watched her; and sighed. T'rin picked up his look and raised an eyebrow.

Ferry tapped deliberately on his palm the drum measure,

**DDDD**_she loves you_**DDDD**

T'rin blinked; and replied,

**DDDD**_you love her, query_**DDDD**

**DDDD**_yes_**DDDD**

**DDDD**_then (qualification obscene) do something about it_**DDDD**

**DDDD**_she needs to recover_**DDDD** Ferry replied indignantly.

**DDDD**_(Qualification obscene) does she. Give her gifts_**DDDD**

The other apprentices followed most of this; only Kitiara, her face against T'rin was unaware of being thus discussed!

Ferry tapped,

**DDDD**_she's also ranking. I'm not_**DDDD**

T'rin's reply was laconic.

**DDDD**_so get her pregnant. Then they'll have to put up with it_**DDDD**

Ferry looked outraged; but T'rin winked at him to show he was only half serious.

HHH

T'rin hugged to himself the secret that Kister was to walk the tables; and also the secret of the present he had cadged from R'cal for his friends.

The dragonrider Journeyman was greeted by enthusiastic calls at the supper table; and L'gal and T'rin both had to accept the congratulations of dozens of youths before they could sit down to eat!

Kister's promotion came as a complete surprise to him; and L'gal and T'rin pulled rank as dragonriders to be his escorts up the tables! Kister had such a big grin on his face, T'rin teased him he looked like he'd just Impressed!

After supper, T'rin collected his friends and passed out his gifts – firelizard eggs. They were well hardened, and he had asked Master Robinton to delay the dispatch of Kister and Felimmy until the eggs had hatched: as having a quick means of communication would make their job safer. The Master Harper had agreed; and asked the journeymen whether the Harper Hall could come to some arrangement so that all journeymen and some senior apprentices might ultimately have firelizards. T'rin thought; and said,

"You know my foster mother's ability to solve problems – and she's making almost a craft of it. It comes close in some ways to some of the things that harpers do. I think she'd really like to turn it into a specialist craft after the Pass is over; because having the speed of travel of a dragon is an advantage to examine evidence. But harpers give law, and there needs to be clearly defined areas of responsibility and co-operation. To talk about it, and to to support the idea of a cohesive means of deterring the incorrigible criminal would really please T'lan. Would that seem a fair exchange, sir?"

Robinton blinked.

"Such is no more than we would hope to do anyway" he said in his melodious voice.

"Well, let's say that helping out the Harper Hall is no more than High Reaches Weyr would do as well" grinned T'rin.

As T'rin hoped, his friends were delighted and almost overwhelmed by their gifts! R'cal had kept gold eggs and those he thought to be bronzes back, but any firelizard was an amazing gift!

T'rin returned with L'gal to pick up Kister and Felimmy after they had been briefed by the Masterharper. The young dragonmen brought them on Solpeth first to High Reaches so that they could talk to Lyseder; and it was the younger boy, Felimmy, who got the most answers from the still frightened boy, chatting easily with him while he let the lad stroke the head knob of his beloved little brown firelizard.

Felimmy had almost cried in his gratitude after Impressing Garnet, as he called the little creature. Now he had some inkling of how T'rin felt about Renpeth! Kister also had a brown lizard, whom he had named Piper for his trilling voice.

The other boys and Kitiara had all also chosen music-related names. They had thumped Ferry into submission when he had suggested the name 'Cheesy' for his little green; he had instead come up with the name Rhapsody – felt to be far more suitable!

Kister was unwontedly serious about the coming mission; they were not expecting to be well received.

"At least Felimmy is craftbred and very handy at manual work" he confided to T'rin. "I think we'll have to prove ourselves by being hard before we're taken seriously."

T'rin nodded.

"Well assessed, I'd say" he nodded agreement. "And you can always send Piper and Garnet if you have any real trouble and need help."

HHH

Kister's assessment of Seaholder Aleseder was that he was dour, inflexible, humourless, tunnel-visioned and intractable with little room in his life for anything that did not involve fish. That he had once had a bad experience with a harper was apparent right away.

"We don't need no fardling harper!" he exploded when they arrived. "We didn't ask for one!"

Kister gave a brittle smile.

"Lord Oterel asked for one for you" he said, as pleasantly as he could. "He did not wish to be in breach of his duty by leaving a place Beholden to him without a harper, as the law decrees."

Aleseder scowled at him.

"Phaugh! Just you keep your hands off our women, or I'll cut your manhood off!" he said crudely.

Kister raised an eyebrow.

"Touch YOUR women? My dear Holder I DO have my standards."

The insult was clear.

"WHAT?" roared Aleseder "Do you call down our women?"

Kister tutted.

"Make up your mind, my dear chap. You can't have it both ways."

"You are insulting, you little jack-a-napes!"

Kister looked him in the eye.

"No more, sir, than you are for calling my morals into question – and in front of my apprentice, a boy of tender years! I will not be so miscalled and tarred with the same brush as some person with less than perfect morals I an guessing you may have met – who happened to be a harper!"

Aleseder scowled blackly.

"I could break you in two, little man."

Kister shrugged.

"So could an enraged Wher. Does that make a wher a better Holder? I think not. But I begin to think you are trying to demonstrate by your attitude that you are one."

The Holder flushed.

"You and your clever tongue! I'll not let you into my Hold! Begone!"

"Indeed? I would remind you that the penalties for harming a Harper are severe." Said Kister.

"I'll not lay a fardling finger on your scrawny body! But you'll not come in!"

"Oh, but you will, Holder Aleseder. In five hours Threadfall is expected. To refuse any shelter is tantamount to murder – and be sure I'd leave a message writ in the sand for dragonriders to read."

The man looked baffled and furious. Kister went on,

"Has it not occurred to you that Lord Oterel has asked for a harper to be sent to give you a chance of showing that you are capable of doing your duty?"

"I do my duty!" Aleseder growled.

"Maintaining a harper to educate is part of your duty. And if you had forgotten that part of the Duty Song, I am evidently well overdue here."

Thoughts flashed furiously through the young man's mind. It was his guess that young Lyseder were the illegitimate by-product of the proddy harper that Aleseder was so angry about. The man he called his father was probably no such thing – which would explain both Lyseder's talent and his so-called father's antipathy towards it! Judging by the name, the boy was probably also related to the Holder. Kister did not believe that Aleseder was, as such, a bad man: but so insular and stubborn that he would need to be shocked out of his fish-bound world if he were to maintain any civil relations with outsiders. Kister's heart was pounding after the encounter, and little Piper was chittering angrily under his cloak. But he had kept his cool throughout and countered every one of Aleseder's blusters!

Felimmy whispered,

"That was worthy of T'rin!"; and Kister was well pleased at such praise!

Aleseder led the young harpers in.

"And you know nothing of fishercraft or sailing, I'll be bound." He grumbled.

"Then the teaching can be two way, can it not?" said Felimmy, brightly.

"WHAT?" barked Aleseder.

"My apprentice suggested that you teach us" said Kister. "It would make sense for us to understand the rudiments of the life of the people whose children we teach. Much teaching draws on analogy as illustration for the very young. We need to appreciate how the Hold functions in order to draw such parallels."

Aleseder sniffed.

"You and your jaw-crack words" he grunted.

"He said you gorra fardling-well larn 'em by example like" Felimmy did a good impression of the seabred language golden-voiced Shoris lapsed into when he was in the mood to shock.

Aleseder grunted again.

"Well at least your apprentice can talk plain" he said.

Kister found it worrying that the Holder was quite serious!

Felimmy managed to earn himself more points of approval in the Seahold by acquitting himself so well in a fight against two bigger lads he could have been said to have won on points. Felimmy himself certainly thought so. They had thought a soft harper boy easy meat and fun to tease cruelly; but Felimmy's miner-craft bred frame contained deceptively small but wiry muscles. And miner boys played rough too; so he had developed a high pain threshold and hard limbs. He looked disgraceful afterwards; but so too did the others.

Kister demanded to know what had happened; and Felimmy beat on his hand a brief explanation. For the benefit of witnesses he shrugged.

"Walked into a wall" he said casually.

It had the desired effect; Felimmy at least became accepted – if warily – by the boys of the Hold: and Kister had his way in through him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Kister thanked his luck that he proved a good sailor. Felimmy took some chaff for turning queasy, but Kister actually enjoyed the experience. He explained regretfully to Aleseder that he dared not damage his hands with too much rope work.

"It is my livelihood" he said "As you could not afford to risk catching the wasting ailment that cripples the legs; I could lose the use of my legs and still function. Different jobs require different things."

"Got to keep your pretty hands soft, eh?" sneered the fisherman.

Kister shrugged.

"Only the palms. My finger tips now…." He flicked the tips of his digits across the Holder's nose to demonstrate the hard callouses from harp and gitar playing; and smiled brightly at the man's outrage. "Purely in the spirit of demonstration!" he said, innocently.

Aleseder stared speechless; then gave a grim smile.

"You're a cheeky little bastard!" it was almost a compliment. Kister grinned at him.

"I do try to oblige!" he returned.

Although keeping up the banter before these grim faced fishermen left Kister feeling sick to the stomach with the effort, he dared not let down his cheerful care-not attitude. That flippancy came naturally to him helped; and as an inveterate practical joker he laughed with the men when he was caught in a booby trap of stinking fish heads. His good humoured acceptance did him no harm; especially as he guessed correctly who had been responsible and fixed a revenge trap involving fine fishing line as a trip and a pile of discarded and pungent numbweed greens.

Some of the Fish-hold children, infected by the attitudes of their elders tried insolence; and refused to learn. Kister stuck their dumb insolence for three days. Then he possessed himself of the keys to the teaching room; and locked himself and the children in. He had emptied the room of scrolls and even chairs; and had chalked up the duty song on the walls. The room had its own necessary with water from a spring for drinking; and Kister had plenty of fish and meat rolls for himself.

He told them that he intended to stay there until they all learned the Duty Song. They could lark about; or ignore him; but not only would it get boring, they would also eventually get hungry.

"And personally, I don't care how uncomfortable you choose to make yourselves" he said.

The bigger boys started to shout abuse; and one of the little girls started to cry. Kister picked her up.

"Shall we start learning so you can go to have dinner while those great idiots go hungry?" he asked her conspiratorially.

She nodded tearfully. Kister ignored the ones who were determined not to learn; and when the smaller ones had learned what he deemed was sufficient he waited until the older children were distracted to quickly send them out.

The big boys howled in outrage; and some of them tried to grab the key. Kister dodged, laughing.

"Aren't you bored enough – or hungry enough – to learn yet?" he asked. "Or are you too stupid? I've borrowed a scroll of the parts of a boat – and I wager I can learn that before you dullards learn the Duty Song!" he took the scroll from his jacket, turned his back on them, and began studying it.

There was baffled muttering; and one of Felimmy's new friends muttered,

"That Felimmy's no sissy and he can learn things. I ain't having no fardling outsider call me stupid."

Kister had no need to award any corporal punishment to the most stubborn; Felimmy's friends did it for him, in support of the one that spoke out: and the song was learned. Kister commented merely,

"And if you don't waste so much time in future you can start to learn the interesting stuff."

"What sort of interesting stuff?" asked one boy, grudgingly.

"Well, for example, how to care for a firelizard if you should happen on a wild clutch and Impress" suggested the crafty Kister. "The best pupils who progress the furthest get to have practical lessons bathing and oiling Piper."

A Ruathan runner trader had once told him that recalcitrant pack runnerbeasts could be herded with a mixture of a stick at the rear and a carrot at the front. The principle seemed to work!

HHH

Meanwhile, back at High Reaches, the next incident had catapulted itself on the weyr with the arrival of D're's family and their tale of woe and ill usage at the hands of Lord Aven. The volatile and unwillingly pregnant Kaili had created something of a stir, even though the dragonriders had taken the matter to Lord Bargen and had been granted compensation to Kaili and her uncle. From there, however, things went downhill.

That T'rin's beloved but crippled sister Sh'rilla was pregnant was enough cause for concern. That her fosterling Deela was desperately ill was pulling her down too. The terrible winter ended with the death of the child; and although T'rin had never felt that the little girl had had long it was still a blow. T'rin worried about the effect upon his sister's health, and how it would affect her baby; and the long labour she endured had him pacing the floor half demented.

T'rin's clutchmates rallied around to see to Renpeth's needs while he devoted himself to his sister's needs; and feeling Renpeth's love and sympathy helped. He was delighted that his sister birthed a healthy son, whom the little family called Shadeel, picking the name to reflect Deela's name but without too much heart wrenching immediacy as 'Deelan' might have, as first had been suggested. The lessons at the little Harper Hall as well as for the general Weyrchildren were truncated though T'rin tried not to shirk his duties overmuch.

Naturally, T'rin had a lot less trouble with his pupils than Kister! All were keen to learn and eager to progress. True, Mira became somewhat preoccupied as Impression drew near; but such was only to be expected, and T'rin made allowances!

"If you Impress, I'm afraid you'll fall behind for a while" he told her.

She shrugged.

"I'll make it up, sometime."

It sounded insolent; but T'rin had learned that Mira had studied the art of the offhand. Her family could not understand her interest in music and her two older brothers teased her unmercifully. If she enacted offhand it was then no fun to steal and hide her flute or gum it up with something sticky – both of which tricks had been played on her before. As her parents' attitude to her flute was that it was 'only a toy' left them unlikely to remonstrate with her siblings she grew an outer skin. T'rin picked this up in snatches; such as when Mira commented on how T'lan took quite seriously the treatment of the possessions of all of her children and fosterlings by each other, toys or no. The young Harper sometimes wondered – with B'lova another example – if loving, well meaning but dim parents were not as much a handicap as disapproving ones!

The disturbing note to T'rin's lessons was that T'arla had taken to dropping in from time to time; she sat in the back corner with a mocking smile on her face only he could see, rolling her eyes at the ceiling if he insisted on a point of convention. T'rin liked her as a fellow logicator and rider, but she did put him off rather and he had to work hard to ignore her. he only hoped that some of what he was teaching might rub off on her – though her casual pose, leaning back and relaxed was not really one for serious study.

As T'arla had made it clear soon after they had Impressed that she wanted friendship only, it had not occurred to T'rin that she was trying to put him off by making him notice the soft curves of her slender body by taking a pose that made them as prominent as possible. It was a contrary thing to do; and T'arla knew how she irritated T'rin. But he had stuck to his word of being friendly only – and perversely she resented it!

T'arla confronted T'rin one day when his pupils had left.

"Don't you think I'm pretty?" she pouted.

T'rin was more worldly than H'llon.

He got the point almost at once.

"Very" he grinned; and whipped out the lacing of her short tunic.

It was a short, violent, passionate interlude; the big desk in the teaching cavern came in very handy, and T'rin enjoyed himself. So did T'arla, as she let him know.

He grinned at her as they got dressed.

"Still friends too?"

She grinned back.

"You bet, Harper-boy!"

T'rin was quite happy to have an affair with T'arla. She knew the rules, and it did not interfere with their camaraderie. Love did not come into it; it was lust, pure and simple. And T'rin was well aware that she would not worry when Frith rose for the first time if the little green should be flown by Renpeth or by any other dragon. T'rin was considering letting Renpeth fly Linith; he knew that Rillith would be happily accommodated by Luruth, who would easily outfly smaller dragons, being a Bronze; but B'lova had no weyrmate. He quite liked her really, and it seemed a shame for her to be lumbered with T'chal whose Breeneth might be said to have an advantage for T'chal having been briefly a lover of B'lova when she was Bellova. Besides, T'rin thought a flight might help to take his own mind off the terrible winter and its assorted traumas.

T'arla finished dressing as he cogitated and asked,

"That Bronze Rider H'llon – is he all there?"

"He's damned intelligent!" T'rin came rapidly and indignantly to the defence of his friend.

She smiled at him; and it made of her eyes an invitation. T'rin dismissed H'llom from his mind and took off his shirt again.

"You take my point so quickly" T'arla said approvingly, wriggling out of her own tunic again. "H'llon didn't seem to understand me at all" she added a discontented pout before winking at T'rin.

T'rin chuckled as he started exploring.

"Our H'llon's innocent about women. You leave him be; he's been barked down by Zaira in any case – and I wager she'll preserve his virginity to their first flight if she can. And she'd take you down without breaking stride, my dear."

T'arla snorted over the last comment; but further comment was smothered by T'rin's mouth. Besides she could not be bothered to argue; T'rin had been well educated by Trayse and T'arla appreciated it and had no intention of not giving her whole attention to his adroit loving!

HHHH

Back in the Fish Hold, Kister started getting cooperation from the seabred children when little brown Piper became part of the lessons in Dragonlore; as well as the telling to them long stories between making them learn the relevant songs. A lad named Eseledur asked,

"Why do we have to learn the songs? I can't hold a tune in a net. Why can't we just learn facts?"

Kister thought fast.

"Partly it's because most people find it easier to learn things in rhymes – one bit follows the next and the previous bit prompts it. Singing them is just to make it more fun; and if you'd rather chant them than sing them, Eseledur. I certainly don't mind. But I think there's another reason too."

"What?" demanded Eseledur, meaning no rudeness, Kister was sure: and besides, he was too pleased to get spontaneous questions to care about the propriety of the phrasing of them. He said,

"Until Master Bendarek invented his leaves for writing, we were wholly dependant on hides. But leather is also vital for other things, not least clothing. So only one or two copies of histories got written down" he pulled a face. "In the Harper Hall, Master Arnor gets cross as spiderclaws if people waste his hides. He writes so small it makes it difficult to read, and that makes it harder. So, things have to be learned by heart to make passing them on easier. But if you tell a story, often it changes as you tell it – because you forget a bit, or one bit is of more interest to you so you put more emphasis on the telling of that bit" he looked around "Like the tale of the epidemic that Moreta combated in her famous Ride. You youngsters would be more interested in the boat that sailed to the Southern Continent than the diseased animal it brought back for example. Beastcrafters would care less about the boat but would describe the creature fully."

They all nodded solemnly, seeing his point. Kister went on,

"Have you ever played Lemos whispers? No? Then we'll play it now and you'll soon see what I mean about things changing even unintentionally. Get in a circle and I'll whisper a sentence to little Keefa next to me; she whispers to her neighbour and so on all round."

Giggling the children hurried into a circle to play a game in lesson time!

The message that came back to Kister was 'there's a gold egg in Southern'.

Kister grinned.

"What I started with was 'the firelizard eggs from the south are too cold'" he told them. "Even in a short time with but a few people a message can get garbled; and the telling of history is no different. Songs are harder to garble because they have to fit the tune and rhythm and rhyme properly."

Eseleder grinned.

"I understand now, Harper! Thank you for explaining. I always thought it was just because harpers sang so much they couldn't think in ordinary!"

Kister laughed.

"Well" he twinkled "Some of the senior Journeymen now…"

He dismissed them early; but with set work to do; to think about the ballad of Moreta's Ride and to decide what part of it they found most interesting and why. There should be a goodly number of different viewpoints which would also illustrate his point about bias in telling stories.

Eseleder hung around after the others had gone.

"Can I ask you a question, Harper?" he asked.

Kister nodded.

"I'll do my best to answer any question that you may have; though I don't know everything!"

The boy bit his lip.

"My cousin Lyseder disappeared; and a Green Dragon came with a Dragonwoman, and Grandfather didn't half shout! They had an awful row – you might have heard it at Benden – and I heard that Lyseder is at High Reaches Weyr" he scuffed his toe. "Lyseder's a bit of a wimp in some ways, but he's game and I kinda like him – is there any way of you finding out? I mean, if he's alright? No-one will talk about him here."

"I hardly think" said Kister, dryly, "That it can in any respect be described as wimpish to stow away in a basket of fish to go _Between_. From what I've heard, your cousin is a brave lad. I have heard about him, yes. He's a candidate but he's also studying to be a harper because he's right too, and musical besides."

"Grandfather didn't like him fiddling about tuning."

"So I gather. Also he had trouble with his mother's husband I understand" added Kister dryly.

The boy shrugged.

"Gordron's a brute. He's given me what for before now, only I can take it better. 'Course, if you ask me, not feeding somebody by way of punishment ain't likely to make 'em strong enough to work properly and then punishing them for being weak is plain stupid."

"Indeed" Kister felt quite sick. "Does Lyseder have any brothers or sisters?"

"Naw. Not now. He had a sister but she kep' cryin' so Gordron shook her 'til she stopped and then she died."

Kister swallowed hard. It was the matter of fact acceptance that mad it harder to hear such terrible things!

"The Weyr doesn't think much of Gordron" he said. "The idea of trying to cripple a potential harper doesn't impress them much!"

Eseledur shrugged again.

"Well, if you ask me" he said conspiratorially "It was a harper sired Lyseder, 'cos what I've heard, Gordron ain't his real father like you suggested back then, calling him his mother's husband. And I THINK we used to have a harper right along afore he was born. 'Course I was only a babe of some four turns or so" he added.

"And how old are you now?" Kister asked.

"Thirteen turns, sir."

So the boy Lyseder was well under age as T'rin had suspected! It could be a difficult legal point if Aleseder wanted to make anything of it – and he, Kister, would have to represent the old curmudgeon against all his better judgement and inclinations! However, that it seemed that no-one even mentioned Lyseder, the boy had effectively ceased to exist for his kin, which suggested that there might be no problem in that quarter. Kister assured Eseledur that he would do his best to pass the boy's good wishes to his cousin; and left it at that.

As Y'lara was – most unusually – ill, it was V'gion that turned up with news that hatching was imminent and bringing Lyseder's existence back to the Holder's mind; the Bronze Rider approached Aleseder to ask if any of the boy's relations wanted to be present as was due to them by custom.

"I know no Lyseder" said Aleseder flatly.

Kister, on due consideration had recommended that V'gion make his announcement in public.

Something snapped in the young boy's cowed mother. She pushed back her chair.

"I wish to watch my son on the Impression Ground" she announced clearly.

Her husband backhanded her casually. She fell; but resolutely got up. Gordron scowled, and said,

"Sit down and shut up, woman."

"I will not. I wish to see my son" she said firmly.

Gordron made to strike her again; and found his wrist caught in one of V'gion's steely hands.

"It is her Right" the dragonrider reminded the man. Gordron flashed him a look of hatred; but even he dared not attack a Bronze Rider.

"If the woman leaves, she ceases to be our kin; and she may never return" ruled Aleseder coldly.

"So be it, you cold hearted, wicked old man!" Alessa spit years of hatred at him. "How it can surprise you that those shown no affection should seek even a surrogate elsewhere I do not know! I hope you rot!" she limped over to stand by V'gion.

"I'm coming too"

The assembled company swung round in surprise at the strong young voice of Eseledur.

"If you go, I disown you" roared Aleseder.

"And if you think I want to be kin to someone who conceals what happened to my kid cousin, think again!" Eseledur's voice warbled shrilly, angry but frightened at his own temerity. "I want the freedom to know truth, not your lies by silence!"

"How DARE you? You young whelp, I'll…."

Eseledur promptly darted behind V'gion; and Aleseder turned on Kister.

"This is YOUR fault! You've upset the running of my Hold with your teaching and stories, you…you…." He spat. "Take that whelp of yours and get out!"

"Gladly" said Kister, coldly. "I have done no more than my prescribed duty. You evidently do not understand the word – as I shall make quite plain in my report to Lord Oterel. Eseleder, Alessa, get your things. Felimmy, get ours."

"NO! You go now and with nothing!" roared Aleseder.

"Attempted robbery with threat of violence witnessed by a Bronze Rider as well as an accredited Harper" said V'gion calmly. "Do you really want to compound your crimes, Seaholder?"

"Crimes? Your friends here are the criminals!" the man was beside himself.

"You delude yourself. I think you must be unwell. It is the only reasonable explanation for your irrational behaviour" V'gion was holding his own seabred temper in check with great difficulty. "If any hamper these people from collecting their belongings he will reckon with me."

The fishermen stood back sullenly and unhappily to let the four collect their belongings. They did not like to see their own Holder called down; but some of the older boys at least were muttering about being treated like cattle if one of them could not visit his own cousin without being disowned.

Alessa's bundle was pitifully small; Eseledur's hardly bigger. The harpers, of course, had the instruments of their trade as well as their clothing.

"Robinton'll have a job finding someone for him" said Felimmy.

"The MASTER Harper" Kister emphasised the title reproachfully "Will consult with Lord Oterel. My report will recommend the entire Hold disbanded and its people scattered to other, more stable, holds."

"Can he do that?" wondered the apprentice, then answered his own question. "Yes, of course, because, T'rin threatened it to the folk of Sunnyvale."

"Too fardling right he can" confirmed Kister, grimly "And will too. They have learned NOTHING from the combined withdrawing of good will and from the attempts we have made to show why harpers are needed. Attitudes come from the top; and when the top is rotten so too will be the whole. I hope we made a difference to some of the youngsters; that they at least will have some idea of decent behaviour and not get bullied for being ignorant wherever they fetch up."

Felimmy nodded in sympathy for the children!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Lyseder and Mira stood close together on the hot sand, sharing a scared smile. Mira was part of the small knot of girls, with Shevanne, Riana, Geriana, Prisca and Carlinna. Mira grinned to herself as a surreptitious notebook appeared in Geriana's hand, several small paper leaves sewn together at one end and a piece of willow charcoal tied to it by a long thread. Geriana never could resist making visual notes! Lyseder caught Mira's eye, laughing. The lad, to be honest, had no expectation of Impressing. He knew full well he was under age; and R'gar only permitted him to don the white tunic to conceal the fact that his youth was known. After the Hatching, T'rin and R'gar had hatched the story that the boy was to be too busy with his harper studies to consider being a candidate; that he would wait. That way he would not run out of the permitted number of hatchings before he truly was of age; nor risk Impressing too young. And it would not be a lie. Lyseder wanted to be a Harper far more than he wanted to Impress. So the lad hung back; and watched.

Lyseder was startled, therefore by the cry,

"Go on, Lyseder! Go forward!"

The cry came from the stands; and the voice belonged to his cousin Eseledur! Lyseder turned – and saw his mother there too! As the older boys made their way forward toward the eggs and hatching dragonets, Lyseder ran towards the stands to throw himself into his mother's arms!

A brown dragonet was also making its way towards the stands, apparently following the young boy, to the consternation of those who knew his true age.

"Lyseder – Lyseder, turn round!" Eseledur shook his cousin's shoulder. "A dragon babe! He's adorable – he – he's Eshalath!" he cried as the piteous dragon babe looked up at him pleadingly. "And he's so HUNGRY!"

Kister, waiting with Lyseder's family, gave the boy a push on the back.

"Go on, E'ledur, take your dragonet to R'gar. He'll help" the harper said.

E'ledur nodded, dazed. He was not even a candidate!

"_but I needed you"_ Eshalath said.

E'leder wrapped his skinny brown arms around the long brown neck, revelling in the mental joining he had with his new friend.

_**"We need each other"**_ he replied fiercely.

"I'll help you with him" said Lyseder, firmly from beside him. "I'm not going to Impress, not this time anyway. So I can show you what to do, because I've done all the lessons."

"Thanks, kid" E'ledur really appreciated the offer. With one arm about his wobbly young dragon and the other draped over the shoulder of his young cousin he made his way out of the cavern with the other lucky candidates!

Kister and Felimmy watched the hatching entranced. T'rin joined them, yodelling happily when Sukith tumbled damply from her shell and Mira lifted her chin; T'rin had never doubted that his pupil would Impress.

"Well done our Mi'a!" he roared with all the strength of his harper-trained lungs. Mi'a looked up and smiled a smile of pure joy. T'rin was crying if he but knew it. Kister grinned.

"Your girl?" he queried.

T'rin shook his head.

"No….." he said "But she was our first apprentice…."

And she was a nice kid. He'd have to see what Sukith thought of Renpeth!

It was to no-one's surprise that neither Prisca nor Carlinna Impressed. Those who understood her were also unsurprised that there was no dragon for Geriana. She took her art too single-mindedly. She tried to hide her disappointment as her three weyrmates led her comfortingly off. Sh'anne and Ri'a had been more fortunate with Amianth and Zayth, both of them overjoyed to have attempted a second time on the hatching grounds!

There was only one little dragonet left , a little blue, bawling disconsolately. Disappointed candidates tried to catch his eye, but he shouldered them away impatiently.

"Oh, this is ridiculuous!" burst out Felimmy, hurdling the barrier. "You silly Berith! Do you really want me?"

_"of course"_

_**"But you never felt me before!"**_

_"Yes I did. I felt you later before."_

Somehow it made perfect sense. Both Eshalath and dear, wonderful Berith knew that he, Felimmy and Eseledur – E'ledur, he corrected himself – were coming! They could sense _Between_ time! And why not?

"Hmm" said T'rin. "How to contract you….F'my sounsa greedy; F'limmy is silly. How about F'lim?"

_"That's quite proper"_ Berith told his new partner.

Felimmy – F'lim – grinned.

"Berith likes it. So I do too."

HHH

Master Harper Robinton had a serious meeting with his senior masters.

"Craft Halls have been designated outside a main Hall before now. Other Crafts do it regularly. I suggest that as High Reaches Weyr has collected several of our promising youngsters, they should not be hampered in their future development."

"They're hampered by having another job" grunted Domick. "It'll slow them down."

Robinton shrugged.

"Slow is not stop. Either we can send a permanent master, or arrange regular assessments."

"It seems a shame, Rob, to take away the senior authority of L'gal – and moreover to set a permanent master over a Bronze Rider" was Domick's opinion.

"Then they must receive visits regularly!" said Robinton, gaily.

Allessa was overjoyed to be with her son again; the cruel edict that he not be mentioned had been almost as painful as the worry about him. And if she was secretly pleased not to lose him yet to a dragon, she said nothing of it. Lyseder was a little disappointed, of course, but not disconsolate. And he was delighted to introduce his mother to his journeyman teacher T'rin whose interference had made it possible for Allessa and E'ledur to be there, he told her!

T'rin grinned self deprecatingly.

"Just nosiness really" he said.

"Please, Blue Rider, I'm very grateful for all your care for my son" Allessa was scrupulously deferential.

"Aw, crackdust" said T'rin. "He's a good kid. And I like to help m'father – the Weyrlingmaster – with the kids. I've done a lot of teaching as Journeyman before I Impressed."

"Blue Rider F'lim is one of T'rin's pupils!" said Lyseder. Where he had come by that information, T'rin had no idea! "He can carry on learning with us!"

T'rin grinned.

"In a class of his own, sprout. I'm afraid he's way ahead of all of you!"

"That's okay. He's got a dragon to care for now; p'haps I can catch up!"

T'rin laughed and ruffled the boy's hair while his mother gasped at his temerity at speaking so to a Dragonman! T'rin said,

"Allessa, if you're staying here with us – as we hope you will – get one thing straight. Here you need fear no-one. And if anyone tries to upset you, I or R'gar or any of the girls will sort them out, and GOOD! See?"

Allessa did not see – then. But she smiled her thanks at his kindness.

"I may stay then?" she asked. "I have nowhere else to go, but did not like to ask…."

"Assuredly you may. We always need people to care for we poor helpless dragonmen. And if you are within age, there's no reason on Pern you should not be put to egg and stand a candidate."

She hook her head.

"I could not face Thread….I'd rather drudge here."

T'rin nodded acceptance of her honestly expressed limitations.

"I'll take you to see Keerana; she runs the place, being Headwoman. Tell her your skills; she'll soon sort out a niche fore you" he told her cheerfully.

"Thank you!" Allessa gave him a warm smile. T'rin thought that when she had lost the pinched look of the habitually bullied she would be quite pretty; and then she'd not take long to find a decent, honest lover.

HHH

T'rin and Renpeth were contemplating flight; so with two of the class Impressing, lessons were of necessity somewhat truncated. The younger ones worked on with L'gal, who also set them a lot of free study: because he, like T'rin, wanted to help F'lim and to a lesser extent E'ledur, since they had not had the benefit of previous classes on dragon care. Although E'ledur had no interest in harping, the two journeymen felt a degree of responsibility towards their young apprentice's cousin since their intervention in his Hold had ultimately led to the boy being in the Weyr. Lyseder himself was able to be a great help to his cousin, and E'ledur soon caught up on the routine! For harper trained F'lim, learning a new skill was easy enough too, especially with all the support he had from the other apprentices.

T'rin saw a great deal of Allessa too; she had no real fear of dragons and mucked in to help the youngsters, and with Keerana's permission took it upon herself to clean up after and bring klah for the little harper group. She enthusiastically endorsed R'gar's suggestions that the harpers needed a real Harper Hall within the Weyr, especially in light of Masterharper Robinton designating it a true Crafthall. F'lim dredged up what he could remember of his minercraft background to run some preliminary surveys on suitable sites; and T'rin's clutchmates D'nor and B'lan were pleased to offer their expertise too when they found out what was proposed at F'lim's tentative request to them. Masterminer Nicat was consulted; High Reaches folk were currently high in his favour for solving a multiple murder within a minehold and preventing a worse incident, and he was glad to help. The decision was made to dig back from a weyr above the teaching caverns to make a number of teaching rooms for different aspects of the craft, and run a flight of steps down to the main ground floor corridor near the teaching cavern used by weyrlings. The weyrs on that side were less popular; and L'gal had no trouble swopping his own weyr for one close enough to run steps down to the new complex. T'rin was content with a smaller empty weyr there; Renpeth was never going to grow as large as Bronze Solpeth. A similar flight of steps was added for him, and the journeymen voted the arrangement ideal. Allessa cleaned out an old storeroom near the weyrling kitchens for herself; and prepared to make herself available as main drudge to the harper caves. The weyr from which they had been dug would be snug accommodation for visiting dragons bringing harpers, and Allessa set to work on a second quilt – she was already making one for E'ledur's Eshalath – to lay on the sand couch to help against the biting cold of the High Reaches.

T'rin, finding her at work after he had been inspecting the progress of the mining of further caves, laughed and bent to give her an affectionate hug.

"Don't work too hard for us" he said. "Get your strength back to grow more beautiful!"

She raised her eyes rapidly, and lowered them again as quickly; but T'rin had already seen the expression on her face. He knelt down beside her where she sat, and cupped her face.

"You should know that I'm not planning on settling down yet" he said gently "And I'm hoping for a weyrmate who will have a dragon for Renpeth. I'd be unfair if I didn't make that clear. And I'd not necessarily be faithful to a love mate, for I already share fun with another girl."

She looked up again, blushing becomingly.

"You mean – you'd consider – you might want me?" she whispered wonderingly.

T'rin put a hand to her face.

"You're pretty. You're kind. You make me feel good. But I don't love you, Allessa. I like you very much, but I'll not lie. Anything we did would be for fun and from friendship – not for keeps. And if that's going to hurt you, I don't want to start anything, for I'm far too fond of you to cause you pain."

Tentatively she slid her arms up round his neck and pulled his face towards hers.

"And is not that far more than anything I've ever had before?" she asked. "Friendship is more even than Lyseder's father offered, looking back, though he knew how to make me feel good while we were together. And even that was an improvement."

"You can do better than me" said T'rin, ruefully; and he kissed her.

Her response begged more; and the young harper led her to his weyr to make love to her. It was not the violent urge he had felt with T'arla; it was a gentler, more sharing experience. When he and T'arla shared a bed each took what they needed: and it worked fine. But Allessa had been hurt, and T'rin wanted to help heal that. It was good, teaching her how to receive loving. From her responses as much as much as Allessa's comment on Lyseder's father T'rin strongly suspected that the harper had been a selfish little creep, exploiting a lonely, unhappy woman: and resolved to thrash the fellow if ever he met him. Teaching Allessa self confidence and the ability to take as well as give could prove a long job.

It would take as long as it took.

Mi'a asked T'rin some days later,

"How many women do you have on the go right now?"

"Me? Only two" T'rin sounded injured.

"Two? And do they know about each other?"

He shrugged.

"They know I'm not exclusive. I don't know if they know each other's identity. I doubt T'arla would care much. After all, she's not exactly exclusive herself either. And I warned Allessa I was seeing another girl."

"I just hope Allessa doesn't get hurt" Mi'a disapproved. "I couldn't help noticing the way she looks at you."

"I hope not as well" said T'rin with a sigh. "I know that however much I may warn her, I can't stop any feelings she may have. But we're not suited long term, and I hope she'll come to realise that inside as well as by what I've said. What I'm hoping is that some nice protective brown rider will sweep her off her feet when she's ready to be loved for real."

"I hope you know what you're doing" admonished Mi'a.

T'rin shrugged again, spreading his arms wide to express his helplessness over the situation.

"So do I. But she is attractive and she needs to know that. Not that it's any of your business, young apprentice."

Mi'a tossed her head, ignoring the implied reproof.

"Of course it's my business. She's a woman who's attached to the Weyr-family in our Harper Hall here. And she needs looking after. R'gar and T'lan always talk about the duty of dragonriders to protect; I'm looking on her as someone who needs my protection."

T'rin grinned.

"You've certainly come out of your shell since you Impressed. You sound almost like Y'lara."

She glared at him.

"Anything wrong with that?"

"Not necessarily. So long as you don't start teaching me naughty seabred words"

Mi'a laughed.

"I'm never quite sure if I want to hit you or hug you" she confessed.

"I'd settle for the hug" T'rin winked at her.

"I bet, you proddy little porcine."

"Shells, you do sound like Y'lara! Don't try too hard to be like her, huh?"

Mi'a flushed.

"I – I guess it's a different sort of defence. To cover being shy. I thought I'd try it out on you because you're safe."

T'rin touched her face.

"Thank you for thinking me safe. But Mi'a, don't force it. You have the steel core – else Sukith would not have chosen you. Stand up for what you know is right – like tackling me over Allessa. But don't turn into a sticklebush!"

Mi'a laughed.

"Thanks, T'rin" she said. T'rin leaned over and dropped a light kiss on her cheek; and she looked up at him warily.

"The best things in life make haste slowly, if they happen" he said cryptically. "As for Allessa, I'd not see her hurt if I could avoid it and I'll do my best not to do so; but I have no control over the thoughts and feelings of others. At least I can give her some pleasure and happiness – and hope that what I do is to prepare her for another."

"You're a decent man for a proddy little porcine" said Mi'a affectionately.

T'rin's love life was briefly interrupted by the discovery of the Ancient artefacts by H'llon in the minehold when he stopped to investigate the dying man injured by an ancient rock cutter. More properly the artefacts had been in an old minehold broken into by more recent passages; Master Nicat's men were opening up the ancient hold, and T'rin and L'gal had volunteered to record any finds for posterity. It appeared, however, that the original sleeping chamber found had been the only one that had been abandoned with its contents intact; the other rooms they found had been cleared of possessions. Evidently the occupants had had the time to go back for their things after the first rockfall. The two Harpers, like all the Logicators, were fascinated by the manual, or casebook, of what the ancients had evidently referred to as 'detection'; and L'gal helped H'llon to understand the strange and archaic stories of the case histories. The new addition to the number of the Logicators in the person of Journeyman Healer Ketelin was also enthusiastically received for the bringing of more expert knowledge to assimilate into the group and to help decipher the old manual!

Between this excitement T'rin continued his affairs with T'arla and Allessa; T'arla was not promiscuous but she had picked herself several lovers whose dragons might be expected to catch Frith, and who attracted her. That way, she figured, Frith would have a wider choice and she, T'arla, should be happy with who the little Green chose. Her relationship with T'rin was less intense than it had been; but their couplings were stress-free fun. The same could not be said of any conversation between tham. T'arla's oft expresses scorn of proper musical methodology irritated T'rin because he knew she threw contentious remarks to needle him. He fought hard with himself to make himself return soft and conciliatory answers; it gave him some satisfaction that this annoyed her at least as much as her comments annoyed him, but he let himself be drawn into the occasional splendid little spat just for the satisfaction of making up afterwards!

Allessa was both less stressful than T'arla and more. Physically she stood in constant need for reassurance; but her presence out of bed was soothing. T'rin started making personal files on suitable long-term lovers for her; because he liked her a lot and wanted her to be happy when their affair – as it inevitably would – ended. He discussed it with Mi'a.

"Are you always so cold blooded?" she asked.

"I didn't mean to be cold blooded" he said, hurt. "I just want the best for someone I'm fond of."

"Haven't you ever been desperately in love?" she scolded.

He frowned.

"No. No, not really. Even Traysa was pure lust."

"Traysa?"

He grinned, savouring the memory.

"A loving-woman at the Harper Hall, way beyond my means, really….my first experience, if you must know."

"I see."

"No, you don't. But it doesn't matter."

"I hope you fall hopelessly and painfully in love" she said, vehemently.

"I'd like to. But I'm of the opinion that the best kind grows out of friendship and deepens with time; sudden things tend to end as suddenly, you know."

She sniffed.

"If you noticed any such thing as love growing under your nose."

He grinned.

"I think I'd notice" he said.

She snorted; and he laughed.

"Nobody can do more than their best nor give more than they have to give" he said philosophically "And at least I try to think through the consequences of my actions – unlike some real proddy little porcines. And you'll meet enough of them."

She shrugged.

"Why do you think I'm getting in my practice now before Sukith's ready to rise?" she said. "My teacher can give me lessons in more than harping – like how to give a well turned set-down."

"Ah, and that too will come with harping" he said cheerfully "For you'll learn to craft those well balanced cadences!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Meanwhile, T'rin was not the only one who found T'arla's cavalier attitude to musical rules annoying, especially as she was so obviously talented. L'gal overheard a particularly snide comment one day and could not refrain from comment himself.

"T'arla, may I ask you one or two questions?" he said mildly.

"Talking's free…..Bronze Rider" she added the honorific a trifle sullenly to her insolent return as he looked at her.

"Why do we put on fighting straps in a particular way?" he asked.

"For safety. That's scarcely comparable, Harper."

L'gal continued as though she had not added her rider to the answer.

"When the instructions were laid down by the ancients to 'watch for the grubs' what happened?"

"The fool farmers killed them. What's that to do with it?" she tossed her curly black mane.

"If the ancients had had disciplined harpers who were trained to make a message clear, do you think it as likely that the misunderstanding would have occurred?"

T'arla shrugged.

"Maybe not. But that's nothing to do with making music the way it comes naturally, is it?" she said. "Any more questions, Harper Bronze Rider? I'm getting bored."

"Just two" he said grimly. "If the Greenrider can spare the time. First – what is it that you're afraid of that you must needs keep carping at us; and second, how would you like a fardling good spanking if you don't lay off and stop undermining our discipline with the kids we're teaching who DO want to learn?"

T'arla actually blushed!

"I'm not afraid of anything!" she declared hotly.

"No? It seems to me that you go to great lengths to mock the Harper way. If you were indifferent you'd not need to do so."

"I don't need to listen to you!" T'arla snapped, and flung out.

"Whew!" whistled T'rin. "That got her going all right!"

"About time" growling L'gal. "I'm sick of her wasting all that talent for some childish principle."

"Calm down!" suggested T'rin. "An old man like you needs to watch his pressure!"

Twenty-three turn-old L'gal thumped his young colleague judiciously.

T'arla sounded off about L'gal to Mi'a; and the other girl listened to the end of the diatribe. T'arla finally started to run down with comments about 'who does he think he is' before Mi'a interrupted.

"I'd say he KNOWS he is a blooded Bronze Rider" she said, rather coldly "Who deserves respect for that alone; as well as a Journeyman Craftsman who may be held to know therefore something about the craft that he is trained in; and you are not. To rephrase his question, what is it about Harper training that gets you in such a twist?"

T'arla flushed as L'gal's status was reiterated; she knew she had behaved unnecessarily insolently, even for the relaxed atmosphere of High Reaches. She answered Mi'a's question without acknowledging her fault, however.

"Isn't it obvious? My music is free. Not confined into prescribed forms. Like Geriana's painting; she's self taught and everyone respects her."

"I think you'll find" said Mi'a, mildly, "That Geri tries her hardest to learn techniques whenever she can to improve on her own natural style. And I am self-taught in my music; but I find that the forms and conventions give me structures to build on so that my music is better. T'rin is the same, you know; so we do both know what we're talking about, he the journeyman more even than I. And as you've only tried one way, it's rather foolish to condemn out of hand something you don't understand."

It was a long speech for thr introverted young Greenrider; and T'arla stared open mouthed.

"You're accusing ME, who prides herself on fairness, of being unfair?" she asked.

"Yes" said Mi'a calmly. "For you make a big noise about your own prejudices, bullying the rest of us who are uninterested in your views by interrupting OUR studies. The Journeymen are willing to show you a whole new world. And you're doing nothing but bite at them, like a badly treated canine that's hungry but mistrusts the hand that offers food."

"My family said it would be like this. That they'd try and trammel me and make me conform to other people's ideas" said T'arla sulkily.

"That's not true and you know it." Mi'a scowled, letting her irritation show. "T'rin's offered to teach you. You turned it down. Your choice. Did he pester you? No. Did he try to make you come to his view? No. Did you force your ideas loudly and rudely on the rest of us? Yes. And it's bad for the little ones to see a grown up – and an Impressed Rider at that! – behaving so badly. Now go away. You're boring and as I don't fancy you, I don't have T'rin's recourse for finding something interesting about you."

T'arla's mouth fell open again! She was not alone in mistaking Mi'a's quiet manner for a lack of fire; for although she could pick up on the girl's emotion – and Mi'a was angrier than T'arla had ever known her – she knew that many people swallowed their emotions, afraid to speak out, especially to someone of forthright and readily expressed views. Indeed she rather enjoyed needling people to see how well they contained themselves, little realising that it was a form of bullying: and the turning on her by a suddenly articulate Mi'a was a shock, in that the girl expressed herself and reproved her as effectively as might have T'lana or Pilgra! T'arla had much to think about, not least the concept of being boring!

T'arla went in search of T'rin; and could not have picked a worse time, for the journeyman had been present when L'rilly had fainted with a sick little cry and had been whisked to the Healer Hall. And despite his bad start with her, T'rin had become quite fond of the volatile Weyrwoman.

T'arla knew nothing of this, having been arguing with Mi'a when the incident had occurred.

"About your Harper theory" she began. T'rin interrupted with an exasperated sigh.

"Just put a plug in it, will you, T'arla? L'rilly's ill, really ill, and I just can't be bothered to play with you today!"

it was an unkind speech; and T'rin knew it. But he was not feeling kind, especially towards someone who took what he saw as a frivolous attitude towards something he held in such reverence as music and at a time when one of his extended family was so ill. For L'rilly had become like a sister to his beloved foster mother T'lana, and his own sister Sh'rilla; and he loved her despite her effervescence.

T'arla took one look at the young Journeyman's face, and left, wordlessly. It was a shock to realise that T'rin thought her antagonistic behaviour childish enough to 'not be bothered to play'. Especially as she had intended to ask a genuine question. But she had picked too many quarrels on the subject for the Journeyman to anticipate anything else but the same; and T'arla had at least the wisdom to realise that. Unaccustomed so seeking help in anything, she took herself to the drumheights to think.

L'gal found T'arla at the drumheights later when he came to drum a message; the marks of tears were still on her face, though she turned it into shadows at his approach.

L'gal knelt down beside her.

"What is it? Who has been hurting you?" his voice was angry as he turned her face back into the light.

She shrugged.

"Me, I suppose" she answered laconically. "Do you all think I'm childish and stupid?" she asked.

L'gal made himself more comfortable, sat on the floor beside her.

"I think you've been given some rum ideas" he said. "Which you cling to irrationally. Like F'lim did."

"F'lim? He's really good."

"Yes. Now. His family are all musical – but he's the first to come to the Harper Hall. And he'd learned wrong fingering on the gitar; which is fine for dances and shanties, but is a problem if you want to play more complex music – because although it's easier to learn, you don't have the freedom to switch to more complex chording for a wider repertoire. It means you are always limited in what you can play. Once T'rin explained that to him, he was just fine."

"Why didn't T'rin explain that to me?" she asked resentfully.

L'gal smiled dryly.

"Did you ever give him the chance? Besides the two of you are physically involved. And he's still a little young to stand back from that."

"Can we make a pact?" she asked.

"Maybe" the Bronze Rider said cautiously.

"Will you show me things – and if I agree I can do more with what you've shown me, then I'll become an apprentice: and if I don't, I won't. But whatever, I'll try not to sound off about it so much, all right? I know I'm prickly, and I've been disrespectful, but I've never been used to being under anyone before, and it's a sight easier to be grateful to the Riders one sees flying sweep when you never have to meet them to be respectful to anyway. And besides, it was mostly because it was fun making T'rin change colour several times" she added. "Though I DON'T want to be trammelled and confined, which is why I only want to give it a try – not agree to tie myself to apprenticeship without experiencing both sides."

It was a long speech; and came close to being an apology. L'gal laughed in relief, for having T'arla and her outspoken and uneducated views underfoot had been trying.

"I'll agree to that pact willingly, young T'arla – for you'll discover in a few short months how much freer your music will become. No-one can trammel or confine a Harper; our souls are always free. And your music is only as limited as your own imagination: that no amount of rules can limit or extend! True, the unimaginative use tricks and techniques – like that girl Carlinna and her drawing – and any true Harper recognises them as such. They please enough laymen however that like pretty and meaningless twiddles that they serve their purpose" he added cynically. "And I'm sure you already can think of a few popular lays that I'm thinking of; and perceive such travesties as the confinement that you worry about. But you'll soon see."

T'arla was much struck by that; there WERE tunes that were no more than tricks that she had assumed were the stock in trade of Harpers. That L'gal referred to them as travesties was truly encouraging! She held out a hand; and solemnly he grasped it to seal their agreement.

T'arla started to put as much effort into learning as she had previously done into avoiding rules! Her lovers were unceremoniously dropped – with a dragonet to care for as well as extra lessons, she had no time for outside recreation, as she rather loftily informed L'zayn and Z'nil, T'lana's twin cousins. They took it in good part; unlike some girls who were generous with their favours, T'arla was definitely 'one of the lads'.

L'gal worked hard too, teaching T'arla the basics she had never learned, making it as interesting as he could so as not to fray her fragile patience. When she started asking 'why?' more frequently than 'must I?' he knew he had won!

HHHH

T'lana meanwhile watched the byplay as much to keep herself from worrying about L'rilly as anything else. To have to have an operation of the sort Master Oldive had described was no joke; and T'lana knew that her friend would be long recovering, if indeed she survived. The young Queenrider commented to R'gar,

"If she'll have him, she'd never have to worry about another dragon catching Frith."

"Mmm?" R'gar did not always follow the leaps in conversation introduced by his mercurial little weyrmate.

"T'arla. And L'gal. Solpeth being Bronze" explained T'lana. It was enough of an explanation, and R'gar nodded comprehension. He said.

"And not unheard of either. Quite apart from M'gol and J'nara."

T'lana nodded.

"Quite. After all, Bronzes must have their fun too. And there's not enough Queens for one each. But it strikes me that it would be more natural if the majority of Green Riders were female, the rest homosexual. After all, there's as many Greens as the rest of the colours put together, on average. And whilst there's bound to be some random occurrences in mating flights – like Breeneth flying Tanath" – she winced, remembering Y'lara's pithy comments on the ineffectiveness of her weyrmate M'kel in not managing to get Vorth to catch Tanath "It could lead to largely settled relationships amongst riders, with mates able to share all their lives. I bet it would forestall any Oldtimerism."

R'gar shrugged.

"Maybe you're right. Though it doesn't always take a one-on-one to make a stable relationship.

"You're thinking of S'net, S'negen, B'kas and Geriana; but they are fairly unusual. Though I agree. I'm not saying it should be expected that people should be monogamous, for as with Tanath's choice this time it won't always happen; but that if effective marriage happened fairly naturally, it would save some of the friction the more….volatile riders can cause."

"High Reaches is already unusual in the number of monogamous relationships we have."

"And who flies the most efficient sweeps?" said T'lana triumphantly.

"Take it up with your father" R'gar suggested.

A martial light came into T'lana's eye.

"I might just do that. Or better still, Lessa!" she said.

R'gar groaned. It was obvious T'lana was pregnant; she had gone into her 'fix-it' way of thinking!

HHH

L'gal was trying very hard to be impartial. It had been his attraction to T'arla that had first made him speak out as vehemently as he had, trying to make her understand instead of merely exerting his authority as Bronze Rider Journeyman to tell her to stay out of the way of the Harpers. That and his hatred of wasted talent. However hard he tried to be impartial though, he was aware of the girl and as he corrected her holding of a new chord he was teaching her she leaned back against him: and he caught his breath.

He was not so naïve that he thought it accidental.

"This is not a good idea. Nor the time and place" he reproved.

"No, it isn't is it?" she sounded surprised. "But it seems so right" she turned and looked at him, her merry dark eyes unwontedly serious. "I can read emotions, you know, L'gal. if I try very hard."

"I see" he said. His words were not as even as he had intended. T'arla flushed lightly.

"I – I'm not sure what to do. Which isn't like me. Because it – it's different than usual" she said in a small voice.

L'gal ignored her grammatical irregularities.

"Because we talk without quarrelling and actually exchange ideas?" he suggested.

"Something like that. I – I guess I figured I should get to, er, know potential mates for Frith. Conversation never was important."

He nodded.

"It's a waste of your intelligence not to share conversation with a lover."

"Like it's a waste of my talents not to learn?"

"I don't like waste."

"Like a good little Holder Boy?"

"Like the kin of a good little Ruathan Runner Trader, my girl. All the best dragonriders come out of Ruatha."

"Sez you"

"Sez all the legends" he contradicted lazily.

"And are there rules about Green Riders being with Bronze Riders?" her question was half scornful, half hopeful.

"Oh yes" his voice was grave.

"I thought so" she tried to sound uncaring.

"The rule is, they have to have fun" L'gal said.

It took a moment to sink in; then she laughed.

"Of course. I should have realised; there's already M'gol and J'nara. It never occurred before. Well, what are we waiting for, Bronze Rider?"

"For you to get that chord right."

"Fardles. It'll wait."

L'gal gave in. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

HHH

T'rin's own love life took what could have proved a complex turn on an errand to the Harper Hall, carried by R'cal and Camnath. He came face to face with the beautiful Traysa.

She smiled warmly at him.

"Well, you've certainly come a long way since I last knew you, Journeyman Blue Rider" she smiled.

He nodded.

"And in some ways, full circle. I came to the Harper Hall from the Weyr: and now the Weyr has me back."

"Is it good to be back there?" she asked.

He nodded enthusiastically.

"It's one of my two homes" he said "And it's where my kin and fosterkin are."

"I've heard it is a lovely place. T'rin, do you have anyone special?"

"Not exactly" T'rin was cautious.

"I was thinking about settling down…..while I still have my looks. I always liked you, you know."

T'rin looked down at her and gently cupped her chin.

"Traysa, you have always made my blood race. But it's lust, not love. And you can't build a relationship on that. And as such it would be unfair to you – and on others in the Weyr."

She nodded sadly.

"Somehow I thought you'd probably say something like that" she said. "You always were bursting with integrity."

"That's not to say" added the young man "That I'd not come for you and care for you if you were ever in trouble – because I would. So promise you'd not hesitate to send for me, huh?"

She smiled at him and his heart pounded with the memory of their shared bodies.

"I hope there's a girl who deserves you" she said wistfully. "Yes, I'll call on you if I'm in need. And I hope we are friends?"

"Always" he embraced her; and left her watching after him.

Apart from his official errand – a request to borrow teaching scrolls to copy – T'rin wanted to look in on his friends and to find out how Kitiara was coping. Though it was none of his design, he felt vaguely guilty that the girl had fallen so hard for him. He hoped she had managed to transfer her affection to the likeable Ferry; though he anticipated that the girl was quite likely to fall in and out of love several times before she settled down. He was secure in the knowledge that Ferry had good common sense and would behave with all propriety, ignoring his, T'rin's, own facetious suggestion to get Kit pregnant! For Ferry's love for Kit was likely to be no more than calf love too; and if it proved otherwise, well, both youngsters had time enough to bring Kit's father round to it.

When T'rin ran his friends to earth – making writing sheets from reed pith as he had taught them – Kit and Ferry did seem on excellent terms. He raised an eyebrow at his frined, whose berry brown hair and skin were currently obscured by sticky mud. Ferry found it impossible to do any job cleanly. The boy shrugged in reply to his older friend's raised eyebrow.

"Half a loaf" he commented. T'rin pulled a sympathetic face: there was nothing else he could do. He suddenly realised one of the accustomed number was missing.

"Where's Shoris?" he asked.

Ferry grinned.

"His voice broke. So while he's alternating squawking like a wherry and bellowing like a dragon, the Masterharper sent him on a hush-hush mission to the Woodcrafter Hall."

T'rin looked interested.

"Oh yes? Our Elissa's there, I wonder if she's discreet enough not to let on who he is." He said cheerfully.

"Who's Elissa?" Kitiara was still inclined to leap in jealously with such a question.

"She's H'llon's apprentice. Talented by all accounts, and singleminded about wood. Boring kid, but it takes all sorts" T'rin shrugged. "Well, if it's hush-hush I shan't ask any questions. I daresay I shall find out about it from H'llon sooner or later."

T'rin applied himself to spending an afternoon with his friends as R'cal was also running errands for T'bor at Fort Weyr. For a short while he was able to shed all his responsibilities; and he enjoyed every minute of it!


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N the trouble with having several parallel books is that there are spoilers; this is a spoiler for Elissa the Woodcrafter which I haven't got around to posting yet because the books don't quite run in parallel. I guess the choices are to come back to this when you get over the first use of logication in Elissa or hope to have forgotten names during the meanwhile... I wrote Elissa first but this started before it did chronologically... sorry._

**Chapter 8**

It was sooner than T'rin expected that he found out Shoris' mission; for a few days later, Z'linda and Z'kan went off to the Woodcrafter Hall and returned with a sullen looking lad. Z'kan had a quiet word with L'gal and T'rin about giving the boy Rayenn a rudimentary education; and Z'kan outlined the lad's unfortunate background. Rayenn's new fosterparents felt that the Harpers should know about the way the lad had been treated by his Oldtimer father, and coerced into risking the whole future of the Woodcrafter Hall.

L'gal and T'rin undertook the education of the Weyr children as part of their duties as well as teaching their own apprentices; and as there were two talented Journeymen Harpers at High Reaches the Weyr rejoiced in a higher standard of education than many, even quite large, establishments could boast. The level of education was helped by virtually unlimited sheets of paper from H'llon and his ingenious water-driven pulping machine. Rayenn had received rudimentary education with his cotholder mother, but was woefully ignorant on many subjects, and would need extra help to catch up to the others of his own age.

Rayenn said little; but listened well. T'rin saw a mixed up lad whose efforts to please had so far brought him nothing but trouble; but who had been given a new hope by the kindness of Z'linda and Z'kan. T'rin and L'gal were gentle with the boy, and it was not long before he started opening up and asking as well as answering questions. Young Darellon, the clubfooted boy who had come with D're, took Rayenn under his wing; glad, he said, of another boy his own age properly fostered in the Weyr; because he was sick of being outnumbered by girls. Rayenn had even managed a laugh at that.

"There's plenty of candidates your age to choose from, you don't have to go around with me" he ventured, half expecting rejection.

"Sure" said Darellon" "And I guess we'll join them – when there's eggs, this time or next. But they'll mostly either go or Impress. Once we're put forward, it'll be different: but right now we're proper residents here, and they're not yet fixtures."

"I might not be a fixture – if Z'kan and Z'linda decide they don't really want me" Rayenn mumbled.

Darellon snorted.

"They'd not foster you if they didn't want you" he said. "They're straight people. Like my foster father."

Darellon knew more about Z'kan than many; his foster father was a Brown Rider who flew in the same flight that Z'kan was accustomed to join since the Oldtimer had more or less moved into High Reaches, with the tacit approval of T'bor. The lad was also associated with the logicators – and so was privy to information many youths were not! Darellon told Rayenn how he had been accepted by J'red, despite his club foot, at first as a kind of surrogate for J'red's own son who had died in a weyrling accident; and how now he had become J'red's son in his own right.

"You've a club foot?" Rayenn was surprised.

Darellon nodded, proudly.

"Yes, it hardly notices now, does it!" he said. "I exercise it all the time, and Calla's been oiling it and pulling it straight since I got here. And I wore a brace at first that H'llon, T'lana and L'gani designed for me."

Rayenn stared.

"They really do care here, then!" he said "Though you are a Brown Rider's son, so I guess they'd take more trouble…."

"Foster son" Darellon corrected. "My REAL father is a cot holder. I got made to feel guilty all my life for having a clubfoot. D're – Daire as was then – brought me here, with other kids nobody wanted for their various deformities. And they helped all of us, and we got fostered around the Weyr. So Serelis has a wooden foot for the one she lost, Telfer has a firelizard to be his eyes for him. Deela didn't make it" his face clouded "Even Master Oldive could do nothing, but at least she died feeling loved with Sh'rilla and T'kil fostering her. And they've just done everything anyone could and more for us all. And made us feel normal, which is sort of best of all – we're not pampered, allowances are made but not so's we feel useless. Like Radall, who was born without legs, but he does fine as a woodcrafter apprentice. And my own foot is getting stronger, it's almost as good now as anyone's, just a little weakness at times."

Rayenn could hardly believe it.

He could not have imagined in his wildest dreams such good treatment for anyone! He began to hope that; and to believe that Darellon's offer of friendship might truly be genuine – for the boy WAS outnumbered by girls the same age! Not that they were all bad; Serehana, Darellon's closest Weyr friend, was a good enough sort, not just as good as any boy but, Rayenn discovered, a friend of the Woodcraft apprentice Elissa whose fair minded kindness had led to the girl arranging that he be here in the first place!

T'rin was delighted to see the two lads getting on so well. Darellon was now of age for Impression, but he had definitely suffered from a lack of lads his own age! Unless one counted Serehana who was wilder than the maddest boy at times and so clearly suited to her foster mother Y'lara.

Of course there were difficult times. Sometimes, for no apparent reason, Rayenn would burst out in defiance, or go running off to hide: and T'rin was able to reassure Z'linda and Z'kan.

"I did the same thing, you know, to R'gar and T'lan" he explained. "People are so good to you, you feel as if you have to be horribly naughty – to check if they'll still stand by you. Because you kind of expect them to throw you out, which will prove what you know about people, but even so you're desperately hoping they won't stop loving you. But you feel that you need to find out in case you get used to feeling secure before they drop you in the dung."

Z'kan and Z'linda were horrified.

"What sort of people does he think we are?" demanded Z'linda indignantly.

"Whoa – he doesn't THINK anything!" declared T'rin. "He KNOWS he's been rejected before – by his mother, because of his fathering; by his father; and in a way too by the Woodcrafter Hall. He is scared to be too happy – in case it goes wrong. It's nothing to do with you, and I doubt he could even put it into words. I never could have at the time. It's only because I'm a Harper and can analyse how people think, and how I thought. Bad experience leaves its mark."

Z'kan clenched his fists.

"Maybe I didn't spend long enough with P'ren" he gritted. Z'linda laid a hand on his arm.

"Don't make yourself like them" she begged. "And of course, I suppose Rayenn is also afraid that when the baby arrives, we'll be more interested in our own child than in him."

T'rin nodded.

"I too worried about Rogan and Rofel" he said "Though I never knew at the time they were twins. For me that strengthened the bond when they arrived, even though I left the Weyr almost immediately for the Harper Hall; because I had had twin baby brothers once. And T'lan and R'gar made it clear to me that they loved me as much as the babes when I hung back a little. But it gives me another point in common with the lad; I'll take him fishing and talk to him."

Rayen was suspicious of being taken on a long hike by T'rin; but was delighted to be shown a hidden valley, virtually invisible from the air, complete with its own waterfall and pool. A rough cot was built against the valley wall, under its overhanging sides.

"I used to run away here a lot" began T'rin, conversationally as he made for the cot. "Ah, good, it's still all here" as he brought out battered cooking utensils, a flint and steel and dried wood. "Always replenish the woodstore that you use" he told the younger boy. "Then it's there if you or anyone else needs it."

As he lit a fire and set lines for fish, T'rin told the young lad his own story; and of his needs to test the boundaries of R'gar's and T'lana's acceptance of him: how he had been nervous of confessing a desire to be a harper lest they think him ungrateful; and how he realised that at last he had a real family again.

Rayenn listened. He got the point immediately for he was by no means dull.

"I – I just have to run sometimes" he excused himself. T'rin nodded understanding.

"I know. But, Rayenn, I'd lived Holdless. You haven't. So if you need to run, lad, run here. I'm the only person who knows of it – so far as I'm aware – and there's shelter from Thread and the elements and dried food in store that I replenish regularly. After all, it might save the life of some poor Llama herder or hunter caught out in Threadfall or bad weather. There's a trickle of a spring at the back of the cot – that's why I built it here – in case you've forgotten to fill the kettle and there's Threadfall. You'll not go thirsty even in high summer, for it never dries up. And there's shelter from Thread in the overhang if you want to leave the door open because you hate to be confined. and if you were gone too long, I'd know where to look for you in case you were injured or sick. If you'll do that for me – make this a base to run to?"

Rayenn nodded, his eyes filled with tears.

"Why are you so good to me?" he asked.

"Because I remember what it's like to be nobody's child and abused as a criminal" said T'rin. "Because no youngster ever ought to find themselves in that position; and because unless someone gives you a hand up, the least you can do is pass that on to someone else. As I'm sure you will some day."

As T'rin had surmised, from that day, Rayenn virtually gave up running away by himself!

Mi'a had been thinking very deeply about T'rin. Superficially he looked like the popular concept of a Harper – feckless and reckless, a new female conquest every month and a ready capacity for strong drink. It was not an impression that flippant T'rin did a lot to dispel. Yet there was the other side – his endless patience with the denser weyrchildren in basic instruction; his pains to help his own apprentices acquire their full potential; and his agonising over how to least hurt Allessa. Not to mention the pains he had taken over the strange lad Rayenn. It would be good to have a kind mate sorted out before Sukith matured enough to rise – but was T'rin the right person for her? They shared a love of harping with a love of dragons.

But it was not enough.

Mi'a felt sure that if Renpeth flew Sukith it would be a pleasant experience. She blushed, for she had heard several tales about dragonlust! Yet….would it spoil a friendship? Should she go to T'rin's weyr to see if they could start a relationship? It seemed somehow wrong.

Life could get very complex.

The same problem bothered T'rin too. He liked Mi'a a whole lot, and when she had Impressed he confessed to himself that he had hoped to form a bond like that of his foster parents! But it was not happening. Being of honest disposition, he took Mi'a for a long walk and told her of his musings.

The expression of relief on her face told him he had been right to be so blunt.

"T'rin, I like you. Very much. But you're right – it's not going to happen. Everyone has been writing us off as the perfect partners since you first took me as an apprentice; and I confess, it's an awful strain dealing with kindly meant playful comments about whether we're sharing your furs yet."

He looked surprised.

"Bunch of old women!" he said indignantly. "People have really coupled us together?"

She nodded.

"Not the logicators" she said hastily "I guess they know what's what….but the other girls and lower cavern women. You know, how romantic it all is and so on. But – but I'm not happy with it."

T'rin grinned at her and gave her the big smacking kiss of the sort he reserved for little Sagarra.

"Then there's no need to worry. I guess my weyrmate's egg hasn't been shelled yet" he said philosophically. "And yours is waiting for his dragon to find Sukith."

Curiosity about the state of affairs between T'rin and Mi'a burgeoned, as such things do in closed communities, especially on the unbridled tongues of incurable gossips with more romance than sense. It took, however, the normally monosyllabic Kullana to ask,

"T'rin, will you weyr with Mi'a?"

T'rin was so startled to get a whole sentence out of the little girl that he answered without thinking or damning her cheek,

"No."

Kullana smiled at him sunnily.

"Good" she said cryptically, and bent her head to her studies.

T'rin blinked.

"Good?" he murmured queryingly to himself. Then he shrugged. Whoever knew what vagaries went on in the mind of that child!

Still, the main thing was, she was born to be a Harper. And they had a fardling good Harper Hall at High Reaches!

Into the complexity of his love life – and T'rin was glad that at least the love of his dear Renpeth was uncomplicated – came a letter out of the blue. The message was brought in for T'rin by a visiting rider with messages from the Harper Hall; most of which were the usual and anticipated letters from T'rin's regular friends – several of which, it has to be said were joint compositions of dubious grammatical value – and one that was written on a grubby and ageing piece of cloth, T'rin thought sheeting, with a barely decipherable message on it. Intrigued, T'rin worked hard to read it.

"Dear T'rin" it began "I guess when you find out who wrote this you'll just want to throw it away; but I ask you, please read it through first.

"When you never came back I figured I driven you away – and I was kind of glad in a strange way, because it meant I had the power over you to do that. But I sort of missed seeing you; and I asked if you could be asked to visit.

"They told me then that you'd Impressed. I don't know how I felt, but I was angry because you always had all the luck and because you were gone. It had taken me a while to ask to see you; and now it's taken longer to screw up the gall to write to you. I've already chucked away three previous efforts to say the right thing. I guess I can only tell it like it is, and anyway I've only one piece of old bandage left that I scrounged when Faylina threw it away as too thin to use.

"I'm lonely and miserable, and maybe you'll say that it serves me right because I treated you bad. But please will you write to me? And if it's not too much to ask, could you come and see me for a few minutes if you're visiting?

"I use the instruments you brought for me to play. It does help some."

It was signed "Horgey".

T'rin stared at the missive for a long time; and his conscience smote him. He should have gone on one of his visits to the Harper Hall to see the crippled boy who had been his nemesis. After all, it was he, T'rin, who had, however unintentionally, broken the boy's back when he had fought against him for his life and freedom after spying on renegades. And he had told Master Robinton that he would try to help the embittered and brutalised bully.

T'rin thought hard; and finally wrote a note to be going on with.

"Horgey: I'm glad you're still playing. I feel bad about neglecting you, I hope you will forgive me. Renpeth's rather time consuming among other things!

"L'gal and I are getting something of a small Harper Hall together here at High Reaches, and teaching apprentices and weyr children has also been keeping me busy! L'gal's very good natured, so I'll see if I can cadge a lift off him to come and visit soon. Meantime, here's some paper to write letters or jot music on. T'rin".

T'rin sealed a package with several spare paper sheets from H'llon's workshop and asked the visiting Green Rider to take it back with him. Replies to his friends could wait; they'd not expect an immediate return in any case!

After dispatching his letter, T'rin asked to speak with T'bor, R'gar and L'gal; and outlined the history of his problems with Horgey, and the basics of the mission in which the former harper apprentice had been so badly injured. R'gar already knew much of the story, but listened gravely again as T'rin succinctly told the story.

"I felt bad about it" the young harper explained. "I had a loving family where he knew, I feel sure, nothing but knocks and abuse. I ended up with one of the firelizards he thought would be his" he caressed little white Prism "And I broke his back. I felt I should try to help him. I kind of made a promise to myself that I'd try to befriend him and show him that all people are not bad."

"The fact that he wrote to you, son" said R'gar "Demonstrates, I think, quite ably, that he learned something of that – for has he not turned to you?"

T'rin was much struck by this.

"I'd not thought of that" he said.

"If you set yourself the task of helping the boy" put in T'bor "Then you cannot and must not go back on that promise, even though you made it only to yourself. You are right to bring this up; for you will need the permission to go and visit him regularly. Or even, if you feel it right, to bring him to the Weyr. Shells know, we're used enough to people with extra needs. But in the meantime I hope and trust that L'gal will give you transport until Renpeth is himself able to do so; for this is a harper affair as well as it being a matter of honour."

L'gal nodded.

"Gladly, sir" he said. "Horgey was an obnoxious brat; but if there's any chance to improve him it should be taken. Besides, no harper let alone a dragonrider, breaks a vow."

"I'm sorry I didn't go see him before" T'rin was close to tears of contrition, feeling he had failed in his duties!

R'gar laid a hand on his foster son's shoulder.

"A lot has happened to you" he said. "He tried to get rid of your visits by sheer perversity. In a way, it might be better this way – he has come to acknowledge that he does crave your companionship! It's a valuable lesson for him."

T'rin nodded, grateful; R'gar was not given to saying comforting things just to make people feel better. And when he thought about it, he could see that Horgey had to learn some lessons for himself!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

L'gal took T'rin to the Harper Hall a couple of days after he had sent his initial letter. He brought Solpeth in to land off to one side of the dancing square, not to attract too much attention, and T'rin avoided his usual haunts. He had no wish to to try to explain the reason for his visit to his cheerful, but still immature friends, not until he had had the chance to talk to Horgey.

Horgey was sitting up in bed, a far cry from the fat, mean faced boy he had been. He had lost most of the fat that he had used as weight to lean on other children; and his face was pinched. But T'rin's letter lay beside him, close by his hand on the coverlet; and the practice instruments that the boy Tyrin had brought to him were within reach. His eyes were closed when T'rin came in; but he did not seem to be sleeping.

"Hello Horgey" said T'rin.

The boy's eyes flew open; and briefly a look of happiness flashed across his face.

"Tyrin! – Oh, I mean T'rin" his old, wary, closed in look came back.

"I'm a fardling heel" said T'rin. "Horgey, I should have come to see you before."

"You were glad to be shut of me and managed to forget, huh?"

T'rin looked at the floor.

"It came close to that" he admitted in a low voice.

Horgey gave a crow of pure delight.

"Great! You can admit to not always being goody-goody!"

"I never said I was goody-goody!" declared T'rin indignantly. "It was you labelled me thus! I just figured you'd had a raw deal all your life, and it wasn't fair so I wanted to make it up to you a bit! Not that you ever seemed pleased to see me when I did come anyway – I guess part of me thought you might be glad to be shut of ME!"

Horgey tried to put on a sneer: but instead two great tears squeezed out of his eyes and ran down his face.

"I was glad to see you. I didn't want you to know. I didn't want to make you feel that you had any power over me" he sniffed hard. "It's so lonely here. No-one has time to talk; and I guess they'd not anyway, not to an expelled renegade. I've driven away everyone who tried to be kind and I've never had any friends, not real friends." Fresh tears spilled.

"No family at all to visit?" enquired T'rin. The boy shook his head.

"Not that I care for – or care for me. Why d'you think I joined the Harper Hall? I thought it'd be softer than tending crops and being beaten half senseless when my father had had a jug too many. And it was. Much softer. I even enjoyed the music – though I guess I didn't ever live for it the way some of you chaps seemed to, always humming to yourselves. I even thought that was showing off at first until I realised that the ones that did it most were the ones who had already impressed people and didn't need to show off – like Journeyman Menolly."

T'rin put a hand on his old enemy's shoulder; and the floodgates opened.

It was best for him to let it all out.

Disjointedly, he told T'rin about his miserable childhood, beaten by a drunken father who had killed the boy's mother in a drunken rage; sexually abused by an uncle, the reason he had taken to gorging to make himself fat and unattractive. At the Harper Hall he had become at first a target for the bullies because of his fatness and being used to being a victim; and had managed to escape their attentions by becoming one of them. By putting down the other boys ha had tried to build up his own poor self image. Then along came Tyrin. Tyrin who would not be bullied; who fought back. Who made friends easily and led them against the bullies. Tyrin to whom music came as easily as breathing.

"And I hated you most" finished Horgey "Because I was so envious of your friends!"

Faylina had come into the room, shocked at the sounds of violent sobbing; and the Blue Rider seated on the crippled boy's bed with a comforting arm about him had given an imperious little flip of dismissal with his hand. Faylina opened her mouth to protest; but T'rin stared her down. He drummed in the air,

_**DDDD**good for him**DDDD**_

Faylina realised why she recognised the dragonman; it was that imp who had first come to visit the little red-haired Weyrwoman and stayed as an apprentice.

But the habit of command had grown in T'rin; and the woman withdrew.

After a while, Horgey's sobs subsided.

T'rin asked him quietly,

"How much help do you need? With daily routine?"

Horgey flushed.

"I can't keep clean" he muttered. "Sometimes I know before….like sometimes my legs hurt instead of being numb."

"Come, that's good!" said T'rin, and added as the boy stared in surprise "If there is some feeling it may – only may, mind! – get better enough one day for you to be able to choose when to crap and piss, so you can ask to be lifted onto the necessary. It has the potential for more dignity."

"Do you think?"

T'rin shrugged.

"I'm not a healer. But my sister Sh'rilla got more pain as she got more use in her legs after the illness that crippled her. Maybe the spine's mending some. But don't get too hopeful; at least you have your arms, I didn't manage to break the spine so high you lost everything below the neck."

"I hate being a baby in nappies…..and – and being cleaned up reminds me of my uncle….."

"My foster mother reasons that if you put a chamberpot under a baby when it's just fed, its body gets used to going; and if you could do that and not have to lay in it, you could clean yourself up. It's maybe worth trying" suggested T'rin.

"Why are you interested in such a filthy subject?"

"I can't fardling well leave you here, can I? And I'm going to need what we're going to have to do for you at H'Reaches, aren't I?" said T'rin, as though the suggestion were the most reasonable one ever. As to him it was. T'bor had said he might bring the boy to the Weyr if it seemed a good idea.

Horgey stared.

"You'd take me back with you?"

"Not this time. I need to make arrangements – accommodation, drudges, help and so on. I've not, myself got TIME to nurse you properly. I dare say I could – I told you, I helped m'sister. But those who are trained to it can do it better and hurt you less."

"Why?"

"You've no friends here. At High Reaches you can make a fresh start – and believe me, I don't mean by entertaining disappointed Blue Riders of Homosexual tendencies, you need not fear THAT abuse ever again for we protect our own in the Weyr, including from Dragonlust-maddened young idiots who are also our own. And you could join in with our little harper group" he added as a guilty shift from Horgey showed that the boy had wondered if he might be subject to abuse, being helpless to stop it. Horgey frowned at the last suggestion.

"I was expelled, remember?"

"Well, I won't tell if you don't" shrugged T'rin. "Besides, I can always start pestering Master Robinton to reinstate you, if you'd like me to."

"Life's so simple for you. You set a goal – and achieve it."

"In the difficult days when Sh'rilla and me were on our own and hungry it was the only way. It kinda gets to be habit."

Horgey stared wistfully at T'rin.

The journeyman had not had it as easy as the older boy had always assumed he had; but he still was unfailingly cheerful. Horgey wondered what life would have been like if he had managed to stand up to bullies himself and avoid the trap of becoming a bully; and what life might have been had he made a friend of Tyrin when he first came to the Harper Hall.

"But" he thought grimly to himself "I could not have; I didn't have that strength of mind."

Master Oldive arrived at this moment, sent by a rather flustered Faylina.

"Ah, Tyrin – T'rin, that is" he said. "Are you tiring my patient?"

"I want him here" said Horgey sullenly.

"I'll come back in an hour" promised T'rin. "But he's right. You should rest a while."

T'rin asked Master Oldive several pointed and pertinent questions; and received mostly non-committal answers on many of them.

"When the spine is broken it damages the spinal cord that runs through it" Oldive explained. "That seems to be responsible for feeling and movement. Sometimes it is severed, and that kills all feeling and movement below the break. As Horgey feels some pain – quite a lot, actually I think – the cord is probably intact. But we do not understand how it works and whether he can regain much more I do not know" he shrugged lopsidedly, emphasising the hump on his own back that was another incurable condition. "We just know too little."

"It's not like D're's leg, then, that he feels when it's not there?" queried T'rin.

"I think not. For sometimes the lad has advance warning of….excretory functions too" explained Oldive.

"But you don't tell me not to have some hope? Even if he's moved elsewhere?"

"Any bone break is healed by now. Moving him can do no worse. No, I don't tell you to give up hope; but I do tell you not to encourage him to live in too much hope."

With that, T'rin had to be satisfied.

T'rin visited Horgey again before he left, as he had promised; and persuaded the boy to play his pipes while T'rin drummed an accompaniment. It cheered Horgey somewhat to play with somebody else: and T'rin promised to return as soon as he might to take him away where he would have other apprentices to play with.

T'rin had an interview with the Masterharper before he left; and told Robinton all he had gleaned.

"If you'll only reinstate him, sir, he can start again at High Reaches. He can at least enjoy music – and also help with teaching the little ones" pleaded T'rin.

Robinton was reluctant; but impressed by T'rin's faith and fervour.

"I'll upgrade my previous 'no' to an 'I'll think about it'" he said in his melodious voice.

T'rin grinned boyishly.

He was fairly certain the Masterharper would relent.

If T'bor was in any way dismayed that T'rin had taken up his impulsive offer to care for another cripple at High Reaches he gave no sign; and indeed never regretted making such an offer. Dragonmen WERE pledged to protect, after all. He nodded enthusiastically when T'rin suggested that Horgey could help teach the youngsters to earn his keep, for the Weyrleader had learned that all decent folk liked to feel that they could give as well as take. And it was those who did not feel that way that he did NOT welcome in his Weyr.

"If he feels useful and has reason to be offered a place, it will help him too" T'bor said. "If you wish, T'rin, you may even put it to him as a condition of his care here, if you feel it will assuage his pride."

"Why sir, I declare you are as devious as a Harper!" grinned T'rin.

"I'll take THAT as a compliment!" said the Weyrleader.

Horgey accepted the Weyrleader's suggested condition gladly.

"But I'm not an accredited Harper" he pointed out.

"No-one's asking you to teach advanced gitar fingering. Only Duty Ballads and help with reading and writing. F'lim will help too, he's good with the little ones. He only occasionally puts his head under the sleeping furs to have a good private curse" grinned T'rin.

The journey dragonback was painful for Horgey; but the perspective from dragonback thrilled him, and he was amazed by Sh'rilla's hoist that lowered him gently into his own wheeled chair that H'llon had made. There were as many unshed tears of gratitude and emotion as of pain in his eyes as T'rin welcomed him to High Reaches and wheeled him over to the ramp that led to his own room near the teaching cavern. Weyrlings stopped to look curiously; but the number of those with special needs at High Reaches meant that most did not gaze on him with the horror or pity that many reserved for those who had crippling deformities, only with idle nosiness about a newcomer. Horgey wondered that T'rin had ever been able to bear to leave such a place to go to the Harper Hall; and answered his own question, that T'rin had needed music, and could rely on the people here to still love him while he was away; which meant he could carry part of this in his heart. Horgey hardly dared hope that this place might become a true home for him – and that he might even learn what people meant when they spoke of 'home'!

Horgey had been dreading teaching; but when he started his first class he was amazed at the well mannered behaviour of the High Reaches children! Coming from a rather rough background where it was sport amongst the older cotholder boys to disrupt the seasonal school he had always assumed that good manners were weak – but this was what dragonmen expected, and no-one could say that dragonmen were weak! The young Healer Journeyman Ketilin had volunteered his services in nursing Horgey, with the aid of a simple, but willing male drudge, Danel; and being a practical man who had absorbed a lot of T'lana's theory on top of his Healercraft training soon devised a regime that helped keep Horgey in regular habits; and with the aid of his own quickly constructed hoist, enabled the boy to do more for himself using H'llon and T'lana's ingeniously constructed gearing systems. Allessa too took a hand in helping Horgey, he being one of 'her' harpers; and in her he found a substitute for the mother love he never remembered having.

Horgey wondered if, despite his disabilities, this came close to being happiness!

L'gal was at first dubious about including the disgraced harper in lessons, as Master Robinton had said no more than that he would consider reinstatement; but it was T'arla who made up his mind for him.

"You gave me a chance, you big oaf" she said softly.

"It's different"

"Is it so? My kin are Holdless. Few enough craftmasters accept my kind as apprentices. And I half expected to be turned down by the Weyr when I came. High Reaches maintains the highest standards of protection – including the protection of second chances. Don't think I've not heard whispers about B'lova and even L'rilly being less than the respected Weyrwomen they are now. I heard L'rilly once flamed T'lana a-purpose, for she could not make friends; and now look at us all worrying about her being caught in that blizzard for we all love her! And I also remember M'sel's bunch of cronies having to be reproved by H'llon. And all but one of THEM Impressed."

L'gal sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I suppose I must accept what you say – for it is true" he said. "But we are not supposed to train someone who has been expelled."

"Is he the same boy who was expelled?" she asked.

L'gal shook his head.

"No. No, he's not at all. He's eager to please, though he pretends still to be truculent."

"And he helps with the youngsters perfectly adequately"

"I should protest that….Fardles, T'arla, you're right. And I back T'rin to get him reinstated if anyone can."

"Good" said T'arla; and demonstrated her approval of her lover's decision quite graphically.

L'gal was happy to bask in her enthusiastic approval!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

L'gal was scarcely an innocent; lovers he had had before T'arla. Though she was different. It was not merely the shared delight of both having dragons and the possibility of uniting in dragonlust.

He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

He wanted to share all his life with her, making music together, debating points and making up if debates got a little hot.

"I'd like to take you to meet my family, my family outside the Weyr" he told her, rather tentatively.

T'arla chuckled.

"How terribly Holdbred!" she teased; but it was noticeable that there was not the sneering note to her voice that such a comment might have had before she settled down. Nevertheless, L'gal coloured; and then flushed deeper in embarrassment for having flushed in the first place.

"I am Holdbred" he said. "My family are Runner Traders and have been for generations; but my father wanted to settle down and marry a Holdbred girl. I see – saw – a lot of my runner trader uncle, but yes, I also grew up with Holdbred attitudes."

"I thought I sensed a strong streak of the conventional, Harper-man" she grinned at him.

He shrugged.

"We are what we are. COVENTIONALLY" he picked the word deliberately "YOUR people despise Holder-folk as hidebound weaklings. MY people despise the Holdless as losers and thieves. Neither view is accurate; and as Harpers, I would hope that we both see through it."

"I stand reproved" she said in a small voice; then shot him a wicked look under her lashes. "Shall I instead sit reproved – on your knee?"

L'gal smiled ruefully and held out his arms to her to ensconce herself on his lap.

"What are your folks like?" she asked; and he knew that she had capitulated and would come with him; and that half her disparaging remarks at least were to cover her fear that her lover's family would reject his choice of weyrmate. He considered how best to describe his family, trying to see them objectively.

"My parents, I should say, are very ordinary people" he began. "My father, Gallran, sufficiently impressed the Holder when he married into the Hold that he made him Steward when the previous Steward, my mother's grandfather, died. There are those who might call my father stuffy and pompous: and about his work, I'd say that yes, he is. He did not want to betray the trust placed in him, a man of slightly dubious – to the eyes of most Holderfolk – antecedents and is conscientious to a fault. Though those antecedents came in handy, for he's also in charge of buying runnerbeasts for the Hold and it's shrewd he is at so doing. But however busy he may have been, he always made time to play with us three boys and take us riding and fishing and so on. Mother too always found time for us and never shunted us off onto drudges, though as chief housekeeper having three lively lads 'helping' must at times have been trying" he grinned at the memories of a happy childhood. "My parents married for love, which is always nice to find, and their love deepened with time even if it's not very demonstrative. And, being sensible folk, my mother used herbs that she has three healthy children and has good health herself by limiting her pregnancies. Gallin is my oldest brother; he's two turns my senior. And it's why I thought we might go visiting: for I've just received word from him that he's to be wed, and I thought it would be nice to be there for the wedding."

T'arla raised an eyebrow.

"So he can exercise Holdbred smugness over his married state as compared to your weyrslut?" she asked a trifle bitterly.

L'gal flushed angrily.

"If he says any such thing, he'll wed wearing bruises!" he growled. "Do NOT assume, though, T'arla! I have written to my parents that I have met someone special – and father wrote back for both of them that they are very pleased for me and asked if we Weyrfolk were too grand to attend a country wedding. There!" he said.

T'arla blinked at the idea that she could readily extrapolate from such phrasing that the Steward – a grand title by her Holdless reckoning – was nervous of his own son's Impressed state and any weyrwoman he should be fond of!

"And your brother?" she asked. "Will he welcome you?"

It was not unknown for siblings of the Impressed to be jealous and to exhibit hostility because of that; and T'arla had heard of such in wistful tales from other weyrlings.

L'gal grinned.

"Gallin? He's easy going and looks upon life with cheerful acceptance" he said. "Galuin, my younger brother, is the one who plays for cheap laughs. But never about kin. We three always hung together – over everything." A shadow crossed his face, briefly.

"What is it?" T'arla asked.

"There were six of us, all about the same age, over a four turn spread or thereabouts. There were my brothers and I, two other brothers, Keet and Keernek, a turn each way about my age, and – Feletta" he grimaced. "Feletta had a way of winding us round her pretty and devious little finger from an early age" he explained. "We got into trouble for her willingly – stealing bubbly pies and the like. And it never occurred to us to rat on her because she was a girl" he grinned deprecatingly "Holdbred attitudes: protect girls. And encouraged by Feletta herself, I assure you! Anyway, we all grew up and the difference in her gender became more…..marked."

"I'll bet" muttered T'arla, trying not to curl her fingers into lizard claws.

"I fell for her. It's no point hiding it. It was calf love, but quite violent. And I proposed marriage. She – she laughed at me because I was a second son."

T'arla said a short, expressive and ugly word.

L'gal laughed.

"Truly. And she married Keet, or so I have heard, whose father is a wealthy marksman. I left to enter apprenticeship at the Harper Hall."

"How old were you?"

"Fourteen."

She whistled.

"You did well to make Journeyman while still in Impressionable age" she was impressed.

L'gal grinned.

"At first I worked hard to forget. Then I worked because it was fun and I'd forgotten what it was I wanted to forget."

She laughed.

"You recovered quite quickly then?"

"Oh yes. As soon as I realised how superficial she really was; and how unimportant compared to music. But we should be aware….." he tailed off.

"That she's a manipulative little tunnel snake who might try to make trouble because she can't bear it that all the personable men around might not be in love with her? Don't worry, I shan't let her upset my man."

"Say that again."

"What word for word? I don't have Mi'a's knack for total recall."

"No – just the last bit – 'my man'. I rather like the sound of it."

"Idiot! Of course you're my man. And I'm not losing you to some wherry-headed holderbitch who has the soul of a loving wench and that's because she stole it from the poor girl!"

HHH

T'arla and Frith had been learning to fly together now R'gar deemed the greens of the clutch large enough; but there was no question that the little dragon would be able to fly Straight as far as L'gal's old home: and obviously the pair were nowhere near ready to go _Between_. T'arla asked Frith if she minded dreadfully being left for two days.

_"I will miss you"_ said the little Green, disconsolately.

_**"And I you!"**_ T'arla flung her arms around Frith's neck. _**"I will not go with L'gal if it makes you unhappy!"**_

_"But you do want to go. You like L'gal. I like Solpeth"_ Frith added _"I will stay with Rillith and Linith"_ she named J'nara's and B'lova's dragons. T'arla hugged her fiercely.

_**"I will be back soon!"**_ she assured her beloved dragonet.

Holder Revelin of Mynd Hold wondered why his Hold should be honoured by a visit from a Bronze Rider; and he hurried his new, lovely and rather petulant bride to join him in greeting the unexpected visitor.

As the big Bronze dragon neatly backwinged to land on the fireheights of the long razorbacked mountain spur where the Hold was situated, it became apparent that the Bronze Rider also carried a passenger. Revelin fervently hoped that it would not be any of his lady's relatives paying a visit. He had had enough of being patronised by them at the wedding, for Taletts's family outranked his and held a larger, richer Hold: and he was beginning to realise why a woman as beautiful as his bride was still unwed in her mid twenties! Still, Revelin told himself, surely even his shrewish wife's family could not command a favour from so high ranking a fellow as a Bronze Rider!

L'gal helped T'arla down and pulled a private face to see the reception committee.

"Ah, our glorious Holder" he murmured sardonically to his love. "Pompous and self important. Means well by his people, however, but fails to manage to convey that impression."

Taletta gave a fashionable little shriek of terror as Solpeth extended a curious neck; and she took a step back.

Holder Revelin held out a greeting hand; then belatedly wondered if that were too familiar a gesture. But by then, L'gal had politely grasped his wrist.

"My Lord Bronze Rider!" the Holder almost squeaked. "We are terribly honoured! How may I be of assistance?"

"Holder Revelin! It's been a number of turns, hasn't it?" L'gal managed to sound friendly.

Revelin's eyes darted to his lady, staying at a safe distance and displaying an artistic amount of fragile terror, and said in an undertone,

"B-bronze Ride, I – I think I'd remember if I had so exalted an acquaintance!"

"Name's L'gal. The last time you saw me I was a stripling named Lugal, off to the Harper Hall. I'm Gallron's son. Been a lot of water under the bridge since then!" said L'gal laconically. His quick eyes missed nothing – the slightly harried look of the middle aged bridegroom, the overdressed wife with the unmistakeable features of the Ranking family that held sway in te region, related by marriage to Lord Nessel of Crom. He held the Holder's wrist longer than was required by convention and slapped him in a friendly way on the shoulder: and contrived a wink out of sight of the Lady Holder. "Of course as a one time member of your Hold I'd be prepared to give the occasional lift to you to visit….relatives" he murmured, well aware of how that would go down with the Lady's family!

It took a moment to sink in; then Revelin broke into a delighted grin!

"Why how splendid! Come L'gal, and meet my new wife, Taletta, and introduce your friend. Then klah? Or something stronger?"

"Klah is fine. And it seems we are similarly situate – this is my weyrmate T'arla, Greenrider" he held an arm to indicate and draw forward his weyrmate. T'arla came forward, resisting the urge to bob an awkward curtsey that her previous rank would have demanded; and inclined an imperious head instead.

"Weyrwoman" said Revelin, respectfully. "Excuse me, did the Bronze Rider say 'Green Rider'?"

"He did" said T'arla, crisply. "We put women to Greens at High Reaches. It avoids some problems."

"Er, oh, qhite" said the Holder.

"And of course, my dear" put in the Lady Taletta, speaking for the first time now they had progressed a safe distance from the huge Bronze dragon "It must give you SO much freedom." She managed to make the comment seem offensive.

"Freedom" T'arla considered the word. L'gal winced inwardly; he knew his beloved's acid tongue! "Freedom. Yes, we choose freely to go for Impression and choose freely to fight Thread and risk our lives for the likes of you, My Lady."

It was a rebuke; and Taletta flushed. L'gal relaxed; it could have been a LOT more forcibly put. Holder Revelin choked on a laugh and managed,

"We are all grateful for the dedication of all dragonriders." He sounded like he meant it.

T'arla regarded him gravely.

"We all appreciate the partnership we share in making life flow as smoothly as possible for all people" she said.

Shards, thought L'gal, she's been talking to H'llon and picked up a sack full of tact into the bargain!

Revelin turned to his Lady.

"A celebration is called for to honour our Hold's one and only dragonrider – and a Bronze Rider at that! And I am therefore doubly honoured, L'gal, that my Blood is to be joined with yours soon!"

"Indeed?" L'gal asked warily.

"Why, yes! You don't I suppose, remember little Siselly – an indiscretion of my younger days. But it is she who is to marry your brother!"

Taletta gave a tinkle of spiteful laughter.

"Why, is then our illustrious Bronze Rider the STEWARD's son?" scorn crept into her voice.

L'gal turned and gazed at her, eyebrows raised, mild surprise at her rudeness displayed in his own harper-trained features. He kept a couple of fingers on T'arla's wrist, drumming with one of them

_**DDDD**let me handle this**DDDD**_

Taletta's insolent gaze dropped before L'gal's.

Revelin spoke hurriedly.

"Yes, we are honoured" he said firmly. "That one of our own should be so successful and so exalted. And after qualifying so young too as Journeyman Harper and to be honoured in that right too" he added, noting L'gal's proudly displayed knots. "Why I might then dare hope that one day grandchildren of mine might Impress also – for such things often run in families!"

"I had thought that Siselly was almost a decade my junior" frowned L'gal. "I must have been wrong."

"She is fourteen turns old" said Revelin defensively. "Old enough to be wed. As my dear wife pointed out!"

L'gal looked at him; switched his gaze to Taletta and raised an eyebrow.

"I see" he murmured, accepting a mug of klah from a drudge, with a nod of thanks.

Taletta flushed angrily. She rather thought that he did see! It was bad enough that Revelin had held out against sending the chit well away to be wed; but to be looked at like this by a snotty, jumped-up commoner as though she was dirt made her want to burst with indignation!

"It's so nice" said T'arla with a suspiciously saccharine tone "That your daughter knows her mind so young to choose someone like L'gal's….older….brother."

Revelin shuffled.

"She did not object" he muttered, almost inaudibly.

"What a shame we did not know about High Reaches policy of letting girls Impress Green dragons!" said Taletta with false brightness "or we could have let her come to you! Such a spirited girl!"

T'arla gave the woman a studied look; and the Holder Woman's eyes fell. T'arla had no doubt that the woman would indeed have been pleased to get rid of an embarrassing stepdaughter to the Weyr, without considering the consequences to her own standing if the girl should Impress! The young Green Rider smiled brightly and L'gal swallowed a seering mouthful of klah to hide an inward groan.

"Why, Lady Taletta, it's not too late for Siselly to come to the Weyr if she so wishes; it is the Right for any to do so. And how generous that you do not mind that she would then socially outrank you if she became a Green Rider!"

T'arla was determined to get that dig in – and push home her own rank, not perhaps yet fully earned since she had yet to fight Thread; but earned at least in the view of the dragons!

Taletta's face was a study.

There was a flurry and a dark-haired, coltish girl looking younger than her fourteen turns came flying into the room, all legs.

"Revelin, may I? Instead of being wed? SHE'll be pleased because I'll be gone and I'll not have to marry!"

Revelin cleared his throat; and Taletta said sharply,

"Siselly, you rude, naughty child! How dare you eavesdrop! Go to your room!"

Siselly drew herself up. L'gal noticed that the child was trembling, and her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands, clenched in the folds of her gown. She spoke and managed her voice with scarcely a tremor.

"Madam, you cannot have it both ways. Either I am a woman old enough to be wed and old enough to take decisions for myself, or I am a child you can reprove and therefore not old enough to leave my father's household to begin a household of my own."

Taletta gaped, outraged at this piece of undeniable logic; and T'arla laughed.

"Nicely reasoned, my child!" said the Green Dragonrider. "And you do NOT require permission to seek the protection of the Weyr once you are of age. And in the Weyr, fourteen turns is the age of choice – when you are considered old enough to make your own decisions."

"I will come then" said the girl, firmly.

L'gal caught and held her eye.

"Then you should explain your decision to Gallin, my brother" he said, sternly "For he has a right to know why his intended bride would leave him so close to the wedding."

Siselly tossed her head and grinned at him.

"Gallin will understand" she said. "He's only marrying me out of kindness anyway. He's not in love with me or anything soppy like that; I'd just have to be complacent. And I'm a goodish match for him. I like Gallin" she added thoughtfully. "He's kind."

"I see" said L'gal. "Then let us go and find him. Revelin, I shall see you later after I have untangled this mess" he nodded to the flabbergasted Holder and swept out, manoeuvring the faintly protesting Siselly and followed by T'arla.

"A pretty pickle this is" L'gal growled to T'arla as they went out of earshot.

The girl shrugged.

"A marriage arranged by that she-snake and like to be interfered in by her? It would make your brother as miserable as it would this Siselly we appear to have acquired. And at least the kid do't put on airs and coy flirtings for the Magnificent Bronze Rider."

"Why should I?" put in Siselly. "I don't want to flirt with anyone."

"Pert brat, aren't you?" commented T'arla, amiably. "Aye, you'll do at High Reaches – so long as you learn when is the time to be outspoken and when is the time to shut the crackdust up and do as you're bid."

L'gal hid a smile. His lover was on the receiving end of her own brand of rebellion.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Steward Gallran wondered what the two dragonriders wanted with him, and why his prospective daughter-in-law – poor child! was with them. He looked some disapproval on T'arla's delicate features; for with her short black curls and slender figure concealed within a loose, comfortable tunic he took her for a boy, and evidently One of Those to boot. T'arla met the look coolly; and with an inward struggle resisted the urge to stick out her tongue.

L'gal held out his hands.

"Father! Has it been so long that you do not recognise me?"

Gallran stared.

"Lugal! L'gal, I mean! My Boy!"

L'gal embraced the man, and the others in the room clustered around him, his mother hugging and kissing him as though he were just a child and no blooded Bronze rider: and his brothers slapping him on the back with cries of genuine congratulation.

Gallran stepped back, sudden awful thoughts running through his head; L'gal had said he had met someone special.

"L'gal, you'd better introduce us to your – companion" he sad, telling himself firmly not to show distaste; for Weyrfolk saw such things differently, and objectively one could see why they must have to do so. It was harder to be objective about one's own son.

L'gal grinned.

"Father – Mother – this is T'arla" he said proudly. "She has done me the honour of accepting me as a weyrmate – here, that would be the same as if she was my wife – and she is also my apprentice in our little Harper Hall at the Reaches!"

Conflicting emotions chased across Gallran's face; relief won.

"Hi, T'arla!" grinned Galuin, L'gal's younger brother and very much like him in looks. "You won't want family to be all formal and call you Weyrwoman will you? Hey, I though you were a lad at first in that get up and wondered what m'brother was up to!"

Gallran gasped. Galuin had spoken the thoughts of all of them and the steward blenched inwardly at his outspoken youngest son. He relaxed perceptibly as T'arla gave a wicked little grin.

"Fortunately for me" she said "Your brother is a little more perceptive. I do have a gown with me" she turned her head slightly to speak to L'gal's mother, a small, neat woman with smooth chestnut hair arranged in wings over her small neat ears "But skirts are inconvenient for flight dragonback you know."

"My dear, we are delighted to meet you at last!" T'arla was wrapped in an effusive hug by Luina. "L'gal is such an inadequate letter writer for all that he seems to be able to get hold of this new paper! You'd never think he was a Harper and trained to be eloquent!"

T'arla extricated herself and winked at the woman.

"He's not all that good with verbal eloquence either when he feels deeply you know" she confided.

The reunion was interrupted by Siselly, who – white faced, but determined – cleared her throat.

They all looked at her.

"Gallin" she said, bit her lip and began again. "Gallin, I know you don't really WANT to marry me."

"I'm happy to offer you my hand and my protection, Siselly" said Gallin.

It sounded a little pompous.

"But you don't WANT to. I mean, you don't love me or – or desire me, at least I hope not because I don't love you and I don't know what desire feels like so I guess I don't desire you either."

"Love can grow within an affectionate union" Gallin persisted.

"And you know full well I don't WANT to marry you!" Siselly's voice was getting lower and lower. She cast an agonised look at T'arla.

"Shards, new brother of mine, you don't make it easy for the kid, do you?" said the young Greenrider "Persisting in forestalling her attempts to escape marrying you! So far as I can gather, young Siselly has been forced to marry someone – anyone – because My Lady Selfish doesn't want a pretty stepdaughter in her own chambers. And you, my goodbrother, gallantly suggested your protection to her and Holder Revelin gratefully accepted. But there is an alternative that could please everyone."

"There is?" said Gallin, hopefully.

"It's the girl's right to try for Impression at the Weyr. As is evidenced by myself, we let girls try for Greens as well as Queens."

There was a moment's shocked silence.

"What will people SAY?" wailed Luina, full of visions of her son being so bad a potential husband that his bride fled to the Weyr on the eve of their wedding.

"That those blasted Weyrfolk always take the best kids on Search" said L'gal, prosaically. "Come, mother, it was kind of Gallin: but having married for love yourself, you'd surely not want him, or this child Siselly forced into a loveless marriage? Surely you want him to marry for love?"

Luina snorted.

"Not if it's to Feletta" she said shortly.

"Feletta? But she married Keet!"

Luina shook her head.

"Keet and his father were killed in an avalanche over a turn ago. She's a widow."

"A wealthy one" said L'gal dryly. "She needs not pursue Gallin."

His mother snorted again.

"Haven't you realised she'll chase anything in trews?" she asked bitterly. "Revelin himself only escaped because Siselly is Feletta's half-sister and even Feletta wasn't that lost to propriety!"

"Huh, don't remind me!" put in Siselly.

Gallin was looking faintly woebegone.

"You're all very unkind" he said, sounding hurt. "Feletta has suffered a great deal, she needs comfort, not hard words."

L'gal looked at him.

"And you think that she loves you?"

"Certainly. She just doesn't want to marry again."

"And yet it was all right to carry on with the husband of her sister if we HAD got wed!" said Siselly indignantly "I love my ex-husband-to-be's propriety!"

Gallin had the grace to look uncomfortable.

"Feletta can look much higher than you with her wealth" said Luina sardonically. "You just watch. When she hears that our L'gal is a Bronze Rider it'll be him she's all over, trying to rekindle any feelings he may once have had for the manipulative little tunnel snake!"

L'gal flushed.

"Embarrassing" he murmured "But I dare say you're right, mother. It's a bad habit you have."

"Not for long" put in T'arla, grimly. "He's mine and so she shall learn."

Siselly squealed with delight.

"Oh I do wish YOU were my sister!" she cried.

T'arla regarded her steadily.

"No, my dear, I don't think you do. For I was born Holdless; and I'm not sure you'd enjoy that. I wager you've never even seen Thread, let alone could imagine growing up and watching it fall a few short feet away outside such shelter as one might find."

"I could try" Siselly was shocked; but determined.

T'arla regarded her.

"Aye, maybe you would at that" she conceded. "You'll be out in Threadfall walking sweep with the rest of the weyrlings. So, then, if you like you can adopt me. Or I you. Whatever."

Siselly squealed again and hugged T'arla. T'arla sighed; rolled her eyes and accepted it.

The encounter with Feletta was not long delayed. The woman had heard there was a visiting Bronze Rider – the drudge who had served him klah had been full of how courteous he had been to acknowledge her presence and nod thanks – and that the said Bronze Rider had gone to visit the Steward's family. Feletta had put two and two together; Gallin had been inordinately proud when his brother had Impressed, and Green Rider had been sent out of High Reaches as a courtesy to bring L'gal's family to watch the hatching, though he had had but brief conversation with them at that time, for Solpeth's needs had been pressing! Feletta, thinking of the once despised Lugal as a Bronze Rider rather than just as himself as his family did had quickly made the connection. It was easy for her fertile brain to manufacture an errand to the Steward's quarters.

She knocked and entered, speaking as she came.

"Luina, I've an inventory from the cook – you know how bad her legs are. Why" – she simulated a start of surprise " – why, it's dear Lugal!" she covered her mouth with a hand and gave a pretty little laugh. "But of course, I should say, L'gal! how nice to see you! You've not, I'm sure, grown too fancy to greet an old friend!" swiftly she put her arms around his shoulders and kissed him on each cheek.

L'gal tried to disentangle himself.

T'arla gave a broad wink to all in the room and assumed the petulant tone of one of the more histrionic male Green Riders.

"L'gal, who is this – woman?" she demanded, striking a boyish pose, her hips thrust forward aggressively.

Feletta swung round.

"And who might YOU be to interrupt a reunion?"

T'arla frowned.

"I would ask the question more civilly if I were you, woman. We do not take insolence from you commons. I am Green Rider T'arl" she swallowed the final 'a' "And Bronze Rider L'gal is my weyrmate."

The gamut of emotions that ran across Feletta's face was priceless. With a final gasp of horror and disgust she swung around and almost ran out. Gallin made to follow her; and L'gal caught his arm.

"She'll hurt you – as once she hurt me" he said. "Don't let her. My brother is worth more than that."

Gallin shook off the arm; but stayed, hunching himself down into a chair. L'gal added,

"If she loved you as she professes, she'd wed you. NOT encourage you to wed her half sister to give her the excuse to visit and yet still leaves her free for any games on the side."

"You made your point" said Gallin, sullenly. "Just by existing the point was demonstrated very ably. I don't have to like what I've learned, brother mine."

L'gal laid a hand on his brother's arm; and after a moment's hesitation, Gallin laid his own hand over it to acknowledge the brotherly bond that was stronger than Feletta's games.

Siselly was doubled up with laughter over T'arla's act; and Galuin was in little better state.

"What a naughty girl you are!" said Luina indulgently to T'arla. "Oh – I'm sorry, Green Rider!" she added hastily, remembering the girl's status – and the way she had used it to depress Feletta's pretensions.

T'arla went over to her lover's mother; and though she disliked displays of gratuitous affection gave her a hug.

"I'm not as arrogant as I made like to her" she said "And I would hope I'm too much family for formality, Mother Luina"

"Ah, my dear child!" she was enfolded in Luina's bosom again; and endured it.

"You do formality and arrogance very well" chuckled Galuin "And outraged petulance!"

T'arla shrugged.

"I'm a Harper. We're trained to observe – and if necessary, reproduce – behaviour. It helps for telling tales to act out the parts as you tell them" she added hastily as L'gal gave her a little frown. She had almost given away craft secrets that Harpers observed for far more reason than that and acted out parts often enough to observe from under the cover of disguise!

As there was to be no wedding after all, the dragonriders did not stay long; and took only a brief leave of Holder Revelin, making the need for T'arla to return to Frith the excuse. T'arla had helped Siselly pack all she thought the girl needed. Their views did NOT coincide in this matter; but T'arla had shrugged and permitted some more baggage than she had thought strictly necessary. Solpeth was large enough to manage a good load anyway.

"I am glad to have met your kin" T'arla said softly to L'gal as they loaded the several bags Siselly thought essential. "They seem, pleasant people. If rather conventional" she twinkled at him.

"They took this flutterbudget's defection to the Weyr better than I thought" he said. T'arla shrugged.

"Your mother might have been concerned about a scandal over Gallin being effectively jilted, but she's not stupid. She knew Siselly would make him miserable; and that he'd carry on with Feletta regardless."

"Yes. They are sensible, and shrewd. But you're right dear – it is a strain amongst Holderfolk and I shall be glad to get home!" said L'gal in heartfelt tone.

T'arla laughed and kissed him: and after helping a mightily apprehensive Siselly to climb onto Solpeth's back, they left gladly!

There were no formal candidates at that time, save Prisca and Carlinna, who most of the weyr would say hardly counted; and no clutch was yet anticipated. But there were other girls of around Siselly's age. T'arla passed the girl onto the practical Serehana, a turn or so younger in age but turns older in experience. Zaira would also be a candidate for the next clutch, and was friendly enough with Serehana though she was older than either of the girls. Older too were other would-be candidates, Mirielle, D're's sister, and a young widow called Sibealle, some twenty three turns old, who had trudged to the Weyr with no thought of being a candidate for a better life for herself and her two young sons aged seven and four turns respectively. Abreall and Sibran had settled in well enough and Sibealle had settled down to work as she was needed. T'arla like her; the woman had seemed at first glance to be downtrodden, but she had a good turn of phrase and had mastered the art of the pithy comment. Currently she had attached herself to L'rilly as her personal drudge and nurse, for the Queenrider was not fully fit and was, besides, fostering her infant niece and nephew. Sibealle succeeded in keeping L'rilly cheerful and making her laugh, making her, as T'lana said, a real asset, and earning the gratitude of all L'rilly's friends since the Queenrider had been inclined to be lachrymose since her illness.

Abreall had found a friend in M'kel's son Mikas, a turn or so older; his brother played mostly with A'ira's sons, Clom and Aram, and with the boy Dortol who fostered at the Weyr while his sister Ramina struggled to Hold their cothold after their father's murder.

Serehana, if truth be known, found Siselly a little young for her age; but was kind to her in an offhand way. Carefully she introduced her to Mayana, one of Keerana's nieces and deemed too young by her kin to stand for Impression. Serehana, the same age as Mayana, agreed wholeheartedly. The seabred girl also introduced Siselly to Kelia, K'len's second sister, another girl utterly uninterested in Impression. Serehana privately wondered if Siselly was that interested in Impression herself; and felt that as the girl was Kelia's age, she'd either follow the weyrbred girl in her decision or decide to be a bit more positive in her attitude. It mattered little; either way, new blood was good. Serehana missed her frien Elissa, two turns older than herself, and proving herself so well in the Woodcrafter Hall. Finding as good a friend with as sensible an outlook on life was proving hard, for Zaira was too involved with H'llon to be considered a good companion!

L'gal and T'arla were glad to be back to their little Harper Hall and with the other harpers, official and unofficial. Horgey had been introduced soon after his arrival to logicating, and he was able to take an interest in something that required brainwork rather than muscle, and that he could take part in from his bed. As a result of various matters that had arisen in discussion by the logicators they had reaffirmed that dragonriders were honour bound to help or care for any who needed them. Horgey was himself grateful for this attitude; and when the suggestion was made of a Weyr craftstall at gathers to help with what others called the 'High Reaches cranks and cripples' he worked hard to produce several instruments for sale on it. as did the other apprentices.

L'gal flew with all the apprentice pieces to have them stamped by Master Jerint; who smiled over the little instruments produced by the selection of young harpers.

"I detect the hand of T'rin in the teaching here" he said.

"He's always been a better instrument crafter than me" shrugged L'gal.

Jerint examined a few of the items.

"Who made these? There's a familiarity to the style but…."

L'gal swallowed. Would the master refuse to stamp them?

"Horgey" he said.

"Horgey? That was expelled? He never worked so hard for me" Jerint stamped them without quibbling further. L'gal laughed softly.

"Maybe it's because T'rin's greatest talent he learned before he came to us" he said. "He learned from his foster parents to play skilfully upon the human heart to make it excel."

"Hmm" said Jerint. "You could be right at that. Why, look at Fel – F'lim, I should say. Well, well, you or T'rin is going to put in enough work to make master, I suppose."

L'gal chuckled.

"Oh, soon as we hit the Interval" he said cheerfully.

L'gal did stop by to speak to the Masterharper. Robinton looked tired; and the Journeyman Bronze Rider bit his lip.

Robinton raised an enquiring eyebrow.

"I – it's nothing really, sir" apologised L'gal. "I never realised…..I mean, I don't need to intrude minor matters on you and cause you extra trouble."

"L'gal" the beautiful mellifluous voice was stern and gentle both at once. "I ALWAYS have time for the troubles of my people. It's the troubles of all outside the Harper Hall" he made a comical face "That are so wearing."

L'gal grinned.

"Technically, sir, I'm one of those outsiders myself now."

Robinton snorted.

"Domick may have got his yolk a little addled about the unusually perceptive intelligence of your exquisite and gamine little weyrwoman, but High Reaches are not, nowadays, a worry to the Harper Hall. Now tell me what's on your mind."

"Horgey" L'gal came right to the point.

A delicate arched eyebrow was raised to prompt him to continue; and

"Assess" said Robinton.

L'gal moistened his lips.

"His attitude is – well, so different, you'd not think him the same boy. He – he's actually enthusiastic, especially about our current project."

"Which is?"

"Which is to raise funds in our spare time to keep those that get foisted onto us – I don't quite mean that the way it came out. That is, foisting is the intention of those with, well, embarrassing children with disabilities; but we take the view that everyone has value. But budgets get tight. We tithe for the needs of the Weyr; not for cripple kids no-one else wants. So hence extra craft activities."

Robinton nodded. Rumours, often worded less than kindly, had come his way, that High Reaches would take any useless brat; and Oldive had given him fuller information on those he had himself seen.

"His skills?" asked the Masterharper.

"Passable, Master. He's not the best, but he's not the worst either, especially now he's working hard. I, um, hope you don't mind, I showed some of his instruments to Master Jerint. He, um, stamped them. And Horgey also offered to teach some of the Weyr children."

"Don't shuffle like a naughty apprentice" said Robinton, testily. "Do you think that Jerint would have stamped instruments if he felt I had been opposed to it?"

"No sir."

"Do you feel he should be reinstated?"

"Yes sir."

"Very well. I have been thinking about it. He shall have another chance. After all, I have often seen great misfortune can break OR make a man. I will post it with the next lot of postings."

L'gal smiled gratitude.

"Thank you, Master."

"One more thing, L'gal."

"Masterharper?"

"It seems foolish for you to have to keep running back and forth for confirmation of passing work and instruments. I have spoken with the other masters; and although you are young, we have decided to rank you 'acting-master' of the High Reaches Harper Hall. With rights to confirm suitability of work. However" the Masterharper held up a finger as L'gal stammered confused denials and thanks in the same phrase "However, when you feel a student is ready to be made journeyman, we should like them to spend a period here in confirmation – only a week or two, so as not to disrupt the Impressed too much. I trust that is acceptable?"

"Sir, eminently – but I am not yet worthy!"

"Of a full mastership? No, not yet, it will take a turn or two. That is why you are acting-master only. But you are quite capable of assessing your own pupils!"

"I – I don't know what to say!"

The ghost of a smile touched Robinton's lips.

"Then fall back on training, say 'Yessir' and do your job!" he suggested.

"Yessir!" said L'gal, obediently!


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

T'rin regretted that he and Renpeth had not been flying a bit longer; he said so to Allessa.

"I should have liked to have taken you and Lyseder to the Nabol Hold Gather" he said, pulling a face "But Renpeth's not strong enough to fly so long a distance Straight; and of course we've not even started training to go _Between_ yet. Shall I ask R'gar if he'll take you?"

Allessa flushed.

"If he would take Lyseder it would be nice for him to visit a Gather" she said "He's never been to one. But I'd rather not fly anywhere _Between_."

T'rin's brow furrowed.

"Why ever not?" he asked. "I thought you had no problems when you came here first."

She flushed deeper.

"I'm pregnant, T'rin" she said, quietly.

"Pregnant?" he blinked.

"It does sometimes happen as a result of intimacy" she said dryly, smiling at the expression on his face.

"It's mine?" he asked. Somehow it seemed wrong just to assume.

"Well it certainly isn't anyone else's" she said.

T'rin grinned soppily.

"This calls for celebration!" he declared. "Unless" he added in sudden consternation "Unless you didn't want another child?"

"Dear idiot" she said, fondly, relaxed enough now with the Blue Rider to gently insult him. "If I'd not wanted this baby, all I had to do was to accept a trip to Nabol, right?"

T'rin pondered.

"That's true enough. How long gone are you?"

"A couple of months. I wanted to be absolutely certain before I told you. And – and I was worried how you might take it" she paused "It seems I had no need to be."

"Allessa, if you're happy about it, that's all that counts" asseverated T'rin. "After all, in a weyr no-one casts aspertions over the marital state or otherwise of anyone's parents. A lot of kids of riders look to their foster parents more than their real parents anyway, because some people are afraid of giving too much affection in case it makes them unable to make the risks that make our existence meaningful; I don't ascribe to that view. I think there should be foster parents as extra parents so there's always plenty of people for any kid to turn to. And I guess I'm Lyseder's foster father in many ways as much as T'lan is my foster mother" he added ruefully. "It's but an extension to father a sibling of his" he took her hands. "And I'll be as good a father as I can – I'm only sorry that I can't give you what R'gar and T'lan have, for you deserve it."

She smiled a little sadly.

"I'd rather have as much as we do have" she said softly "And have your honesty; than have the pretence of a love that, being a lie, could only lead to hard words and bitter partings. And because it is the way in weyrs" she added "When you do find the love of your life, that you already have a child, or children will not matter. As it does not matter that M'kel had three children before he met Y'lara."

T'rin kissed her lightly.

"Maybe I never will find a weyrmate" he said cheerfully. "Too demanding, that's me."

She leaned her head against him.

"Like you said – your weyrmate's egg just isn't shelled yet. You deserve a love who can share everything with you, including this dragonlust I hear so much about."

"And you, Allessa, deserve better than a proddy itinerant harper" T'rin told her.

"Fardles!" was her only comment to that!

T'lana, of course, picked up in Allessa's state; and asked the woman bluntly,

"Are you happy in your pregnancy?"

Allessa flushed and stammered; she had learned to be relaxed with 'her' harperfolk, but still found herself a little nervous of the higher echelon of the Weyr.

"Why – yes, thank you, weyrwoman!" she managed.

T'lana raised an eyebrow.

"How long is it going to take you to call me 'T'lana', Allessa?" she asked quizzically. "After all, if, as I suspect, it's T'rin's, it does make us kin, for that's my foster grandchild you have in there. Though at no more than twenty turns I have to say I find it hard to adjust to the idea of being a grandmother!" she grinned.

The relarionship had not really struck Allessa; and with that thought she was able to share a smile over the incongruous idea of the little weyrwoman being referred to as 'grandmother'.

"I – I suppose I'd better try, um, T'lana" she said.

T'lana chuckled.

"There – it didn't burn your mouth to say it, did it now?" she asked. "Besides, I'm in the same interesting condition myself, and it's always nice as one gets fatter to have a fellow sufferer to moan about things with!"

"You – you're not going to take it _Between_ then?" Allessa asked, flushing at her own temerity.

"Oh no! I take things as they come. If I'm still able to get far enough along to realise I'm pregnant I assume it's meant to be. I'd not expected to be fertile still with all the usual comings and goings _Between_ so it's an added bonus. I moan about them, but I LIKE babies. Even though my duties mean I have to dump them on Lanelly a lot" she added ruefully. "But that means they just have extra people."

"That's nice – and not a bit like people say. I mean…." Allessa blushed again.

T'lana put a finger to the other woman's lips.

"I know what people say" she said. "And the reasons many women make a lot of it is because they are jealous that weyrwomen get to choose if they have a baby or not. Because many Holderfolk keep their women in ignorance of preventative and abortifacient herbs that might be used, all because of hidebound attitudes and a fear that if women had more autonomy they might just learn to laugh at their menfolk and do some of the running of things themselves; and the fear that they might do it better. It's the reason for the snide comments made about weyr life – envy. People snipe at things they do not themselves have. It's why so many people love to hear any scandal around weyrs; it lowers the weyrfolk and makes them more ordinary, less threatening, less fortunate. As many people like to see a Holder's wife fall on her arse in sticky mud in all her Gather finery" she shrugged. "It's human nature."

"You just accept it" Allessa was wondering. "You're not even the least bit angered by it."

"Of course. To understand all is to accept all. How can anyone who is not involved have any conception of the difficulties and dangers of riding a dragon – even others living in a weyr – when all they see is dragons above them and dragonriders, I fear all too often, throwing their weight around? They see that our day-to-day living is easier; it is. They see that we have personal freedom undreamed of out of a weyr. We do. It's the exchange we get for the danger of Threadscore and possible death, regular total exhaustion that they do NOT get to see; and the terrible chance of being bereft of half our being if….if" she faltered "If we lose our dragon and are forced to carry on living by ourselves; because dragonfolk are conditioned to be brave and not take the easy path of an overdose of fellis."

"Is it that bad?" asked Allessa curiously.

"It's worse" said T'lana, curtly. "Get T'rin to tell you about Sh'len and Tath; I can't. We were weyrlings together….it makes a difference" she struggled with herself until she was back under control. "Anyway" she went on "If congratulations are in order, congratulations. If not…" she left the suggestion delicately unspoken.

"I'm very happy to have T'rin's babe" said Allessa softly. "I may not be his weyrmate, but at least I know this child will receive nothing but love from the hands of his or her family."

"Quite" said T'lana, firmly. "And that holds true whether the pair of you move on to other lovers or not. Oh, by the way" she added "I've been chatting with Pilgra and Keerana."

Allessa looked a little wary; and the little redhaired weyrwoman smiled reassuringly before continuing.

"As there is a fully fledged Harper Hall here, we felt it should have its own Headwoman – and as you seem to have taken on the responsibility, the job is yours. Keerana is overall Headwoman, of course, so you answer to her and to Pilgra; and in the matter of weyrling apprentices – or, um, journeymen" she twinkled "I guess to R'gar and me, if there's any need for discipline, I mean it ought to be discussed if it goes beyond what can be dealt with by a good box to the ears or extra cleaning duties."

Allessa stared open mouthed.

"Headwoman of the Harper Hall? Me?" she queried.

T'lana laughed.

"Indeed, you. You already handle the job. Allessa, with your mouth open you look like something your father would land from the open sea."

Allessa quickly shut her mouth, and chuckled at what was plainly a sally not an insult.

"I – I don't feel worthy."

"Damn that bully of a father of yours, and that repellent fellow they wed you to as well! Believe me, you are worthy. Have you not organised the whole thing from the start? But it's starting to get too large for one person to handle. You will need a couple of sturdy girls to help with the cleaning and such cooking as needs doing. Most eat with their peers so there'll be little of that, but I know they do ask you to cook a meal sometimes when there are protracted work sessions. Next time we've an intake of volunteers, you get first pick of whoever you want" she grinned. "Do warn the girls not to fall in love with T'rin. He is, like D're, a rogue and a rascal."

Allessa opened her mouth to defend her lover; and realised his foster mother was teasing! She laughed.

"Yes, I suppose he is" she agreed. "But in the nicest way!"

"Yes – and that's why it's the more dangerous to a girl's equilibrium" said T'lana. "If he was a heel, any girl who got wise to him would be cured. As he's also rather a decent lad, he's unfortunately infinitely lovable."

T'rin was glad that T'lana had acknowledged Allessa's worth; and given her a formal position. It relieved him and L'gal of some of the small administrative problems of day to day routine by having an official headwoman to refer people to. And with her knots of rank she should not receive any insult from anyone!

A less routine problem, thought T'rin with a sigh, was the inability of his pupils to accurately sing a new piece they were learning. And with L'gal fighting Thread at this moment he'd have to trust his own limited powers of singing to correct them. They repeated the phrase again, gratingly wrong, and he stood up.

And then he froze.

The offending phrase was produced perfectly in a sweet pure base.

_"__**Renpeth?"**_ he asked amazed.

_"Of course. It was getting on my nerves. And I know how it should sound, for I've heard it in your head"_ the little blue dragon said apologetically.

_**"My AREN'T you a clever one!"**_ T'rin was overwhelmed! _**"Beautiful and musical too!"**_

Renpeth radiated a degree of smugness.

The apprentices, shocked for a moment into silence, renewed practice; and this time it was note perfect! T'rin grinned.

Even the dragons could be part of the High Reaches Harper Hall!

Not that all lessons went smoothly, even with the aid of dragons.

Those people at High Reaches adept at reading the drums – which was to say a disproportionate number including most of the logicators as well as the senior staff and any Ranking weyrlings – were barely taking any notice of the practice of the Harper Apprentices on their smaller practice drums one lazy early summer's morning. Until, that is, the unexpected message was sent:

_**DDDD**Now is the time for all good men to indulge in drinks**DDDD**_

This was not the commonly sent practice message that involved all good men to come to the fireheights; and several heads snapped round in surprise to stare at the drum heights.

There was a long pause.

Enough time elapsed for a few pithily pointed comments from T'rin; then a drumbeat from – the knowledgeable avowed – a different drummer repeated again and again, two dozen times if any cared to count,

_**DDDD**I must not substitute incorrect beats in my fellows'copy books**DDDD**_

T'rin told T'lana about it later, having discussed the matter with L'gal.

"It's that little horror Kullana" he chuckled, his expression belying his words. "She's far too young to be a regular apprentice, alas – but she's frighteningly intelligent and she gets bored. She studies on her own, I swear, and I wager she could catch up to F'lim if I let her."

"Then why not do so, dear one?" T'lana queried, cocking her flaming head on one side.

T'rin blurted

"Because she's just a babe! She's scarce eight turns!"

T'lana sniffed speakingly.

"And age has what to do with it?" she said. "For that matter she's only just over a turn younger than Lyseder and two turns younger than Garvan; we just think of her and Takula as being younger, partly for having had them from a young age, and partly because the treatment they had before they came to the Weyr left them in some ways acting childishly. If the girl is capable and eager to be stretched, stretch her! It's something that adds to her sense of self worth, and that is so important for a mite with so unhappy a start in life! Rules were meant to be bent – like ignoring Lyseder's age for Impression – and First Egg knows how good we are at bending the rules here!"

T'rin grinned at his fiery foster mother's vehement tone; and her accurate summation of the attitude of High Reaches Weyr. And he was much struck by the realisation that she was but a turn younger than Lyseder, and that it was perhaps the habit of babying and protecting the two sisters that coloured his attitudes.

"I don't want to burn her out" he said.

T'lana snorted.

"Kullana is not going to let herself be burned out" she declared firmly. "She knows what she wants. If you'd been offered training at that age, with Sh'rilla taken care of, of course….."

T'rin wrinkled his nose.

"I'd have leaped at it. But I can't sign her as an apprentice….Lyseder was a candidate so everyone assumed he was over twelve, and Garvan's Turned ten…..Master Robinton would look at her age and throw a blue fit, and small blame to him!"

T'lana shrugged.

"Smudge her birth date. Or lie. Or go and see him and take her with you. I've heard her play. She's good. I think she's better than Mi'a, though I may be wrong, for I've not your craft-trained ear."

T'rin sighed.

"Yes, she is" he said. "Your ear is fine; it may be untrained but you go straight to the heart of things. Which is why you like Master Domick's music so well. Well, I – I guess I could take her to see the Masterharper if R'cal would give us a lift. L'gal is not happy about taking so radical a step off his own bat when we are so newly established and he just Acting-Master, lest it discredit us. But if Master Robinton feels she would benefit…."

It was not that L'gal was shy of taking decisions; far from it. But the Harper Hall at High Reaches was no long established thing like the Weyr itself was, and he feared to bring it, and by extension the whole harpercraft into disrepute by making a decision so far in departure from the norm. Especially as Kullana was a little girl; and girls were NOT generally welcomed at the Harper Hall as yet even when of proper age. Had she been a boy, he might have wavered. He did not like to pass the responsibility of taking her to T'rin either; but as T'rin pointed out, it was he she had attached herself to, and he felt the keen responsibility to the child who was, moreover, almost part of his own extended family. L'gal acquiesced.

When Kullana was informed that T'rin intended to take her to visit the Harper Hall she regarded him suspiciously.

"Why?" she asked, in her usual monosyllabic idiom.

T'rin surveyed her.

"Because I want permission to apprentice you properly, to give me the right to paddle your backside when you misbehave" he said.

Kullana regarded him solemnly.

"And not being formal would stop you why?" she said with a surprisingly long sentence for her!

"I also want to be able to teach you more" he said "As a proper apprentice, as I'm forbidden to do, because of craft secrets, if you are not confirmed as apprentice."

Kullana absorbed that.

"Why are we still waiting and not gone?" she asked.

"Because, brat, R'cal isn't provided for your personal convenience and we wait on him" said T'rin.

Kullana actually giggled!


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Masterharper Robinton regarded the young Journeyman Blue Rider quizzically.

"What can I do for you, T'rin?" he asked.

"Well, sir, it's a bit awkward" said T'rin. "I've discussed it with L'gal of course: but since it flies against protocol in so many ways we both thought I'd better come and ask you – since it's to me the child came to ask for an apprenticeship."

"And wherein lies your dilemma?" queried the Masterharper. "Surely you are both competent to decide if a child is worth training?"

"Sir – may I ask you to test the child yourself first?" asked T'rin. "I don't mean to be insolent….but I'd like to have knowledge of whether YOU feel she's ready."

The Masterharper raised a delicate eyebrow. Two smudged names on apprentice forms starting with obvious dragonrider contractions suggested to him that it was not entirely the gender of the child as let slip by T'rin that inhibited him; he had every believe that two dragonrider apprentices were female Green Riders, and assuming they made the grade he had no objection at all to that! He only hoped that Kitiara would not find out and ask to continue her harper studies as a candidate to be near T'rin to the detriment of her other studies and the boy's wellbeing. However, he would see what the problem here was sooner if he went along with T'rin's odd request.

"As you wish" he said. "I trust that you must have excellent reason: though it still puzzles me why you would doubt your own judgement."

T'rin opened the window and gave a piercing whistle through his fingers; it was a means he had devised to gain Kullana's attention and bring her running in the hopes of errands to run for him!

Kullana was knocking on the Masterharper's door as soon as her short legs could run up the stairs.

Robinton regarded the little girl; and she returned look for look in full measure. Not in impudence, the Harper thought; but in genuine interest from a child accustomed to be treated with the egalitarian respect shown at High Reaches Weyr.

He asked her some theory questions; and if her answers were succinct to the point of being taciturn they covered what he asked. At his request she drummed simple messages; and added unnecessary and pithy asides, quite accurately, to one, starting guiltily as T'rin barked,

"MANNERS!"

She played chords on a gitar, her own small sized one that T'rin had crafted for her: she picked out tunes on the harp: and managed, less competently, a tune on the flute. At Robinton's request she sang scales, major and minor, and triples, and accurately pitched from a given note. She passed over her written notes on recent lessons, including rough notes on her own tunes.

Robinton turned to T'rin.

"Wherein lies the problem?" he asked in his beautifully modulated voice. "I would have said she had been an apprentice for at least a turn and would willingly post her confirmed to stay."

"The problem is that she's not Turned eight yet" said T'rin. "But she needs more."

Robinton blinked.

"Not turned eight? I'm amazed. I see your dilemma – but it were a shame to waste her talent. You have my permission to make her a formal apprentice, T'rin, but I forbid you to send her to be confirmed Journeyman until she's Turned fourteen – what you in the Weyr call the Age of Choice. She'll need those turns of maturity to support the position – even supposing her to be a levelheaded young woman at that age as so many weyrbred youngsters are."

T'rin nodded.

Kullana expressed her approval by swarming up the tall form of the Masterharper to give him a big smacking kiss on the cheek in a most uncharacteristic display of affection!

"Apprentice!" barked T'rin.

Kullana looked mutinous, and debated sticking out her tongue; then slithered own and stood, like a weyrling, to attention.

"YES sir, Journeyman!" she said crisply.

"Go and wait for me with Camnath" said T'rin.

Kullana nodded her head in acquiescence and marched sharply off.

"You are very firm with her" the Masterharper made it almost a question, knowing that T'rin was wont to keep a firm but light hand on the apprentices he trained.

T'rin grimaced; and told the sordid history of Kullana and her sister-aunt Takula.

"They test limits all the time" he said. "They've mostly grown out of it, but I've had her pushing hard for a while….it's why I wanted to apprentice her properly, to stretch her as she needs stretching. She's bored; and she makes trouble; and she knows most people will make allowances for her for her unhappy early life. But she's quite amenable to tough discipline – as long as it is fair. She needs to know where the limits are. And she doesn't seem to mind, or she'd not have come back for more of my strictness in class. It's easier to lighten than tighten; but then, I'm teaching my grandmother to suck eggs there!" he added with a grin.

Robinton returned it.

"I know that you know how and when to be gentle" he said "So I make no recommendations; you know her best. And I dare swear T'lana has her eye on Kullana too, and her sister – if I know that young Weyrwoman at all! Keep me posted; and if she DOES lose interest for being too young, well you can always release her from her apprenticeship. She looks enough like T'kul, I have to say, that I've no doubt she'll Impress one day anyway!"

T'rin nodded gratefully.

Fortunately Master Robinton was prepared to be as flexible as the people at home, at High Reaches! T'rin found himself telling his Master about the drum message perpetrated by Kullana on poor Mi'a; and the Masterharper laughed until tears ran freely down his cheeks.

"Oh my! Yes, T'rin, she DOES need stretching!" he chuckled. "Almost as bad as a group of apprentice lads who passed drum messages about their enemies and bullies!"

As this was T'rin and his friends, the young Blue Rider joined the Masterharper's laughter rather ruefully!

T'rin found Kullana a lot easier to handle now her skills were acknowledged officially; and was able to settle better to other duties. One of the things that he discovered was that the very act of logicating could add to his skills as a Harper.

After a nasty case when a blackmailing Woodcrafter drove a Ranking woman to suicide, the logicators discussed the similarities in the threats to loved ones and security of life between this act and kidnapping; for the Lady Libethra's daughter had been kidnapped but a few months previously by the child's own half brother; and Libethra had brought little Tefanny to the Weyr rather than be forced into marriage as Lady Warder – her husband being dispossessed for his lack of discipline to his son – as Lord Bargen did not believe in Lady Holders. T'rin passed on this discussion of the logicators to his favourite master, Master Domick in a long letter: for the mercurial tunecrafter had explained to T'rin how behaviour patterns of one person might give a clue to future behaviour of others in similar situations. The aberrant behaviour of using threats might, T'rin felt, help his Master and friend; and Domick wrote his thanks for the concise description of such!

In the meantime, Segrith had risen: T'arla had taken advantage of L'gal's Solpeth's involvement, something L'gal was quite happy about!

T'rin anticipated a steady trickle of candidates, the younger ones of whom would certainly need to continue lessons under the aegis of the Weyrharpers, if only to check that their standards of literacy reached the standards that R'gar expected. He knew too that sometimes illiterate candidates were brought in by the flexible High Reaches team and he had had few enough literacy skills himself when he and his sister had come on Search! Generally T'lana undertook quiet extra lessons to catch up those who needed it; but T'rin had a quiet word with Horgey.

"Could you have the patience to teach the illiterate, Horgey?" he asked. "They'll be defensive, maybe bitter – but you're not threatening to look at stuck in a chair and you might get more out of them than a Journeyman Blue Rider, or worse, Bronze Rider."

Horgey brightened.

"I'd be glad to, T'rin. I had enough trouble myself to catch up at the Harper hall with writing, and often sore fingers from Master Morshall's criticisms of my writing, let alone the comments of the Master-recordkeeper! I know how it feels to feel stupid next to everyone else."

T'rin gave him a comradely grin.

"I knew you'd not let me down" he said.

Horgey was filled with joy.

T'rin was certain he'd not let him down! What a long way they had come together!

He had a little green firelizard now, whose appetite took a considerable part of his time: though Allessa always saw to it that he had plenty of meat for her. T'rin was teaching him how to train her and he was enchanted by the way she sang along with his practice in her pure clear treble voice. Horgey dared not mention it yet, but the feeling in his legs had been increasing, and he had voluntarily moved one foot almost an inch the day before! It was odd; he had touched his foot tentatively and felt the touch of his hand, though not as pressure, but as heat! He knew he must make haste slowly if he was to make any progress at all: but one of the things that overjoyed him was knowing when he needed the necessary, and being able to hoist himself across to a purpose-built stool with a contraption fashioned by T'lana, H'llon and L'gani. Sometimes he had to ring his bedside bell to ask his drudge Danel to help him back to bed: but it was a start, and a matter of dignity, and he felt so much less unmanned by being able to take care of much of his own hygiene requirements.

T'rin expected that there might be some candidates with musical ability: and probably most would consider themselves more musical than in fact they were. He had needed to break the news to several Riders that they had a pleasant hobby; and better to leave it at that. Fortunately L'gani had helped out there, informing one Blue Rider with a temper that he, L'gani, loved woodwork – but he'd never have the cheek to try to apprentice himself to H'llon! As L'gani was Weyrsecond this carried more weight – unfairly – than the word of a Journeyman in the craft the Rider was trying to join! Therefore T'rin was not entirely happy when M'kel brought in one candidate and led him straight to T'rin with the comment,

"Jaysen here was asking so many questions about our Harperweyr I thought I'd bring him straight to you."

T'rin could not refrain from an inward grin at M'kel's choice of description – Harperweyr – for it was more appropriate than any other fumbling designation yet made. Just sometimes M'kel had a gift with words. However, T'rin regarded the lad soberly.

Jaysen was slight and dark with an olive cast to his skin and a nose that suggested a kinship with Meron of Nabol; though H'llon and his band of woodcrafters had just brought in one of Meron's daughters who had fled unkind fostering, and the logicators as a whole had found her pleasant enough. Indeed, H'llon was busy rescuing the girl's next sister down, and doubtless making serious representations to the foster parents about ill treatment. It was just a shock on a male face: but T'rin was prepared to reserve judgement until he had spoken to and tested the boy.

"If you are so keen on music, why did you not go to the Harpercraft Hall as an apprentice?" he asked.

The boy lifted his chin.

"Because my father would not countenance me wasting my time as a musician" he said. T'rin gasped. The boy's voice was pure as gold; and if it was not so fine as T'rin's old friend Shoris then it came close!

"Your father is an idiot, if you can hold a tune with that lovely voice of yours" the journeyman snapped.

"I can hold a tune. I don't know if I can play or not – I've never been allowed an instrument. Instruments are toys for girls and defectives" said the boy resentfully.

T'rin made a few rather basic comments on Jaysen's father's understanding – or lack of it. He started to cover the man's habits, antecedents and cleanliness when he realised this was not the most tactful thing to do to a man's son.

Jaysen seemed rather more impressed by T'rin's fluency than shocked by his insults to his father. T'rin shook his head in irritation.

"And yet he lets you come on Search?"

Jaysen shrugged.

"One can boast if one's son Impresses, for his deeds are visible. The Harpers who kept the Traditions alive under Fax had to be careful; it is not glamorous, even if it was, I'm guessing, as dangerous as fighting Thread."

T'rin looked approval on the boy.

"You've a fine appreciation of what it really is to be a Harper" he said. "I recall Master Robinton making a speech – there'd been some expulsions" – of Horgey and his friend as it happened – "And he reminded us that friends of his had died to keep the Traditions alive so that not all were totally unprepared when Thread returned. And to us it seems incredible that Thread should have been forgotten: but that it WAS needs to be kept alive too!" he added "We'll put you to egg anyway: it matters not if you Impress or no. And you can stay for three goes, picking and choosing the hatchings, until you are twenty turns. By that time, if you're not Impressed, you should be a Journeyman if you work hard enough and so be independent. The Weyr has jurisdiction over you while you are here; if need be the Weyr can decide to send you to the Harper Hall. Is that fair?"

The boy's face suffused with joy.

"Oh yes, sir, Journeyman! When do I start?"

"After the noon meal I have the beginners. You'll work with them, having no training. In the evening, L'gal will work on your voice; he's the greater expert on that and it's worth training as well as might be" T'rin explained. "Being a candidate as well with R'gar's lessons you'll have little enough leisure" he warned "For you'll be training for two jobs!"

"Sir, if others can hold down the task of being Harpers AND dragonriders, I'm sure I can manage the extra lessons!" asseverated Jaysen.

T'rin nodded.

"Good lad. Now get your stuff to the candidates' dormitory and go find something to eat."

T'rin reflected that there were some stupid people about. The boy Jaysen had an acute appreciation of the real role of harpers; but even if all harpers did was make music, that were surely of value to bring diversion for those with frequently hard lives and little enough joy and colour!

As to the idea of holding down two jobs, T'rin grinned wryly over the thought that in fact he himself held down three – if one counted logicating! The logicators actually had very little leisure time – or rather, they chose to use it on their chosen purpose of righting wrongs. But on the other hand, the busy people of High Reaches who had filled their leisure times with useful occupations had no time or inclination to make trouble as the Oldtimers had made trouble; and would be less likely to become bored at the end of the pass!

The girl who had been found by H'llon's apprentices rejoiced in the lengthy name of Imbelinne. Having sisters called Meliandra, Sorelinna, Ipominea, Clytelia and Adellys she felt she had almost got off lightly! She seemed to have forged a friendship with Horgey; suffering from a broken leg and a broken arm, H'llon had suggested she might like to spend time with someone else still incapacitated; and T'rin had come in one day to find Horgey recounting his own tale simply and without self pity. The young Journeyman slipped away.

Imbelline was young; and healed fast. She also had the sense not to rush things, content to listen to Horgey telling the tale of the logicators and the Harperweyr and how good High Reaches people were. As she healed, T'rin heard her play along with the boy; and if she had no genius, she was without doubt competently taught.

The day came that Horgey asked T'rin and L'gal to attend him; Imbelline was with him. The boy asked shyly,

"Imbelline has a talent for words. I- I wondered if it was enough for an apprenticeship."

Imbelline smiled brightly.

"Well, it appears to me that I should engage in the judicious acquisition of a craft, lest I find myself unImpressed, that I may yet be of use to the Weyr for its sanctuary to those of us who find ourselves in dire straits. Whilst there is undoubtedly a need for cleaning operatives within the Weyr, and I can undoubtedly effect as good an epuration as any, I believe my intellectual qualities lead to such an occupation being a prodigal waste of my talents."

Acting-Master L'gal and Journeyman T'rin exchanged glances of sheer delight.

"Beautifully measured cadences" murmured L'gal.

"You said that about Y'lara" reminded T'rin.

"Different cadences" said L'gal, dryly. "Do you think that you have talent, Imbelline?"

"Musically? No sir" she said candidly. "But I can hold a tune, and I know all the required drum messages for the Ranking; and it's not so difficult to make an educated guess at those not normally taught. I can memorise lengthy messages and passages: I love words. And I am, I believe, a diligent observer."

L'gal and T'rin exchanged another look.

"Talk Drumbeats" said T'rin, trying to hide his excitement.

The look the girl gave him was puzzled, but she spoke up quite readily.

"If you write them down – I do not, of course, know the accepted notation, but adopted my own method of recording – it is possible to trace certain regularities, similarities and relationships between certain messages. It follows, therefore, that other messages not intended for interpretation by those of us trained only in the basics might contain certain sequences related, ah, thereunto."

"You almost ran out of verbiage at the end of that complex and involuted little passage" grinned T'rin.

She grinned back; and T'rin noted that, whilst ferrety, her face had a gamine charm that verged on the pretty when she smiled unselfconsciously.

"I do sometimes" she admitted. "Am I right though?"

T'rin thought furiously; and decided to explain about T'lana's ability to work things out, and how it had worried Master Domick into despatching e spy – Lugal – who had so unintentionally Impressed Bronze Solpeth!

"For picking out the patterns if nothing else you should be a Harper" T'rin told her firmly. "Horgey says you have a pretty, but rather reedy voice; L'gal will work on that and see if he can't improve it" he shot a sly look and a grin at L'gal, who chuckled. The girl looked a question, and L'gal took pity on her curiosity.

"Our voice master passed certain remarks on T'rin's singing voice. He does NOT train singing" he said.

"I see" said Imbelline. "Well, actually I do not, fully; I expect it's an in-Hall joke."

L'gal grinned.

"You could say that. You've been trained in the basics?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Report to class with Mi'a, T'arla and the kids. F'lim is way ahead of all of you: you may be technically above some of the others, but it's easier to work as a group. And if you Impress, some of them will be colleagues too."

Imbelline had settled in well with the other girls; and Mi'a later told T'rin that her habit of long words had been an attempt to enrage her ill educated foster parents in a way they could not legitimately punish her for. It had worked!

"I warned her off you" said Mi'a, cheerfully. "But she's not after any emotional entanglements at all just yet."

"Warned? I like THAT!" T'rin protested, injured.

Mi'a chuckled, unimpressed.

"You ARE too handsome for your own good" she said. "And for the good of silly young maidens that long to be the one to tie you down! Anyway, we'll look out for Imbelline, T'arla and me. She's all right."

As Imbelline also took to mathematics and its applications to instrument crafting in string length and thickness or pipe lengths and hole placement as though born to it, the two journeymen were delighted with their decision to take her on.

It did not occur to them that some masters at the Harper Hall might have viewed the large numbers of females in the harperweyr with some disapprobation; and as the Masterharper was happy to accommodate the cheerfully egalitarian outlook of High Reaches and so never TOLD those more hidebound masters they did not have to find out.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter !4**

It turned out that Imbelline only knew Jaysan slightly; though he was as T'rin had surmised her cousin in some degree. Neither was quite sure what degree; and neither did they care much, being happy enough to call each other 'cousin' and delight in a shared love of music and throwing themselves into Weyr life. Jaysan was closer in age to Garald, the older of the two weyrbred apprentices; and T'rin was glad to see a friendship starting there, for Garald's brother was closer in age to Lyseder and Garald felt a lack of older boys other than F'lim. And F'lim was not only several turns senior, and Impressed, but far advanced when compared to the rest!

"F'lim's almost ready for promotion to Journeyman really" T'rin commented to L'gal. the Acting Master nodded.

"The problem there is that we cannot send him to the Harper Hall to confirm – because of Berith" L'gal said. "I'd like too to give him a little longer – and see Berith to a turn old. F'lim has too many duties as a weyrling to undertake those of a Journeyman too, a new task on top of all the new skills he needs to learn to catch up with his clutch mates, and keep up. Let them fly, and then we'll see. He's steady enough not to let his Harper duties interfere with going _Between_" he grinned at T'rin winking broadly. R'gar had been teasing his foster son that if he had a tune in his head he's do better to call of a scheduled lesson than go _Between_ with Renpeth, with only half a mind on the task. Though R'gar's tone had been light, there had been some real concern in his single eye; and T'rin had promised him earnestly to put all his mind to it when he and Renpeth started going _Between_ for the first time. L'gal had overheard the conversation and, knowing T'rin's propensity for tuning, kept R'gar's warning alive by gentle teasing!

T'rin nodded in answer to L'gal's assessment of F'lim's steadiness. The boy was musical but showed no real desire to make up tunes, being content with those of other people.

"Yes, it's hard juggling all the dates" agreed the young journeyman. "We're all lucky to have supportive friends who consider our other jobs important enough to help us out with juvenile dragons" he added seriously; for it was something he DID appreciate. High Reaches valued all its crafters and there was never any shortage of help from other riders and from youngsters to those who had to balance craft and weyr duties. And judging by comments from visiting riders, this was not universally true of all weyrs. But then, as T'lan had said, other weyrs did not spend their leisure time so profitably as did the folk of High Reaches, which gave the lazy creatures the time to stick their unwanted noses in and make fatuous comment about the business of others like a bunch of silly holder girls. She had said it to a Brown Rider from Fort who had gone off in high dudgeon, laughed out of the weyr by any riders who happened to overhear, and T'bor had supported her thoroughly when N'ton had ventured a mild comment on the subject!

L'gal saw his smirk and knew exactly what he was thinking!

"We are lucky here" he said. "And lucky too that our apprentices who are Impressed are a dedicated group of youngsters who work at their lessons despite voracious young bellies and serious lessons to prepare them for fighting Thread. You and T'arla have less to do in terms of physical care for Renpeth and Frith, but you've got formations to learn."

T'rin shrugged.

"That's the easy part. I wrote a fugue – I started from my dragonbabe fugue – that follows the formation change and T'arla and I whistle it to ourselves to keep position. Some of the others of our hatching think we're crazy; but it works. B'lova and J'nara have been using it too, and they agree."

L'gal chuckled.

"If it works, use it" he said. "You might teach it to me – I might find it useful too!"

T'rin flushed, pleased.

"I'd be delighted!" he said. "I've not played it to you before because I'm putting together a piece to cover Impression to fighting Thread, a long piece; it's a little ambitious but it's all fitting together well so far."

"I'd like to hear it nonetheless" said L'gal "Just to follow how it goes. Because I'm nosy; and because Master Domick was my special master too."

T'rin grinned self consciously!

F'lim had not the slightest idea that his superiors were discussing his possible promotion: it had not occurred to him that he might in any way deserve it! Besides, he had heard that once Impressed, apprentices never progressed any further; and if he envied T'rin at all that he had made Journeyman before Impression, his love for Berith dispelled any real regrets he might have had and he felt it a fair exchange! Especially as he was able to continue his studies – a little haphazardly with a small dragonet to care for – here. Being senior apprentice meant a lot to him, and he wore his tassel with pride. He was glad that T'arla, his senior in turns, did not resent his being senior over her. F'lim, like T'arla an individualist, had had to unlearn much of what he had learned from talented, but untutored family. He found her a remarkably pretty girl as well as talented; but she was so plainly smitten of L'gal he never even attempted to flirt with her!

Imbelline was another matter; and F'lim was fascinated by her vocabulary. He approached her after lessons one day, after she had been describing – unflatteringly – a marksman who had visited the weyr and tried to cheat the harper apprentices. They had given him short shrift, and Imbelline got voted spokeswoman by the other junior apprentices to describe the incident to T'rin and L'gal.

"I never heard such beautifully rounded terms in all my life!" he grinned. "'Inept, inutile and in trouble if you continue to infest our weyr with your iniquity' indeed – I could listen to you speaking for hours!"

Imbelline smiled shyly back.

"Alas, I am uncertain that I could, with any degree of certainty, maintain a verbose flow for so considerable and extended a period" she said, twinkling at him.

F'lim chuckled.

"Priceless!" he said. "HOW you must have irritated those idiots you were living with!"

"It did become a habit after a while, though" Imbelline admitted. "I can cease the production of carefully crafted verbiage, but it actually takes a little effort now!"

"And you're in the right place for people who actually enjoy it" said F'lim. "Like I enjoy listening to D're in full flow when he exaggerates that Ruathan brogue of his. But, um, I'd not like to ask D're out" he flushed. "I, er, I don't really know yet how weyrfolk do this, but as you're recent too and understand the rules of life I know, I, er, wondered if you'd consent to walk out with me" he went a deeper red.

Imbelline stared, a little panicked.

"Oh! Oh, but I – I'm too young for that!" she exclaimed, starteled out of her usual complexities. "I – I'm only Turned thirteen, you know!"

F'lim flushed deeper yet.

"Oh! Is – is that all? You seem so….mature. Can I …..may I be friends then and ….and see how it goes later?"

Imbelline shot him a shrewd look.

"Would this be by any chance concerned with the possibility, however remote it may be, of my chance of Impressing at the anticipated hatching?" she asked. Her tone was a trifle snippy.

F'lim blushed again.

"No, actually I'd forgotten you were a candidate" he told her truthfully. "I just wanted to go out with someone who was also a Harper, for I'd find it difficult to think of anything much to say to someone who didn't share my – well, my life!" he waved his hands expressively. "And you're the most intelligent girl I've ever met…..except Kullana who's only a kiddie anyway as well as being too intelligent to the point it quite frightens the life out of me" he added candidly.

Imbelline blinked, taken aback by his honesty.

"I – I'd have to think about it" she said. "We are friends anyway, aren't we? We're both harpers and logicators. I just don't want any excess complications right now of any romantic entanglement; I feel myself unequal to the turmoil of adolescent excesses. Besides, I'm too plain and I don't see what you might see in me" she finished illogically "For I'll tell you straight, my Rank scarcely counts."

F'lim snorted.

"Nuts to your Rank! And I surely would like to do something violent to those –those CRAWLIES who've had the hurting of you!" he said indignantly. "They've taken away all your sense of self worth! Sure, there are prettier girls, superficially at least; but you've intelligence, girl, and you've fine eyes that shine with cleverness and mischief, and when you laugh you have a dear little dimple at the side of your mouth that pops in and out which any man might want to kiss…..when you were old enough to want him to!" he finished hastily.

Imbelline blushed deep red and swallowed hard.

"I'm not seabred" she said in a small voice "I- I'd like time to be childishly silly, because Ipominea and I never before had the chance to. If….if you'll wait, we'll see. And if you find someone else, I guess such things were not destined in any case. I'm sorry."

F'lim smiled and touched her arm in a friendly gesture.

"Then I'll stand your friend for now" he promised "and, as you say, we'll see. I guess I'm not really old enough to settle down properly myself anyway; for I'm not Turned fifteen yet. And there was I thinking shame on my temerity for chatting up an older woman!" he winked at her.

Imbelline chuckled.

"And because you are a senior apprentice I imagined you to be weighted with years and prematurely middle aged and maybe nearly twenty" she said.

"I believe I have some time to turn before I achieve that level of incipient decrepitude" said F'lim gravely.

Imbelline giggled; not something she had ever previously found occasion to do! At least, reflected F'lim, it was more a delicious gurgle than the sort of giggle one associated with a lot of girls!

"It DOES sound silly talking like that, doesn't it?" she said cheerfully of his mimicry of her style.

"I love listening to you" said F'lim sincerely. "Silly? Sometimes, yes. But delightful, nonetheless!"

Their friendship was cemented; and, T'rin declared, like to drive everyone else to grey hairs as they vied for particularly long winded and erudite periods of speech!

"It's a harmless hobby" said L'gal. "They'll either grow out of it or weyr together."

"Mmm" said T'rin "Because no-one else would have either of them!"

Candidates came in rather haphazardly between the Flight and the clutching; no-one knew how many eggs Segrith would lay, but it did not stop some riders going on Search! Or for that matter, bringing in those they felt deserved the chance as soon as there were eggs. T'lana for one never discouraged this, feeling as she did that the dragons deserved as wide a choice as possible; and had she had her way as many as four times as many candidates as eggs would be presented or more. It was purely a matter of logistics and housing candidates that limited numbers really; especially as it was the right of any youth to stand three times on the hatching grounds, and to wait out turns too between attempts if they desired: that with a large number of candidates to be presented would have stretched weyr resources in terms of places to sleep the youngsters if nothing else! T'lana's idea was to work the candidates hard so that those who went for a soft option were rapidly scared off, to whittle away the numbers of those unlikely to Impress and present quality and quantity in a balanced proportion to the dragonets. Most riders however waited in traditional fashion until Segrith laid her twenty four eggs – including a Gold one! – before going to fetch their candidates.

One of these candidates was weyrwoman J'nara's sister Caralara. T'rin was protective of J'nara; most dragonriders had a built in urge to be protective of women amongst their clutchmates even more than other weyrwomen – save the senior weyrwoman for whom all dragonriders felt a special bond – and T'rin always felt almost as particularly brotherly towards B'lova, J'nara and T'arla, especially now their affair had ended, as he did for his own sister Sh'rilla and his fostermother T'lana. J'nara had broken away from her own kin to come to the Weyr; and T'rin was half sceptical of the chances of her brother Jeneel, almost out of age already, and her buxom sister. He did not intend to have much to do with either of them, despite his fondness for J'nara.

Caralara had other ideas. She was fond of music; and certainly aware of T'rin's good looks and unattended status. T'rin did not advertise his affair with Allessa, feeling it would embarrass the shy woman; and Allessa was happy in that state of affairs!

Caralara covered her nervousness in a different way to the diffident J'nara; she was inclined to gush. And T'rin was much dismayed when the voluble candidate cornered him.

"Oh Blue Rider Journeyman!" she said, breathily, advancing upon him, bosoms – as T'rin later described it – akimbo. "You have no idea how much I admire you and your musical skills!"

T'rin knew he was good; and played for the entire Weyr several times a sevenday after supper. He also knew that there were only a handful of people who appreciated just how good he was: and most of his apprentices did not yet fall into that category. Indeed, if there were more who could fully appreciate him than L'gal, F'lim, T'lana and – he had to admit – Kullana, he would be surprised. He felt the familiar desire to disengage himself from this incipient conversation that usually engulfed him when confronted by such gushing Ranking girls as he encountered when out of the Weyr, out for flirtation with a handsome Harper – or handsome Rider. So he assumed a forbidding voice.

"Probably not" he answered her comment. He did NOT know how much she admired him; and nor did he care. However, the fact that her eyes looked like she had been slapped made him feel a little guilty, even whilst he admonished himself as too soft hearted. The girl made another determined effort.

"It – it was suggested to me that you should hear me play and sing that I might apply to be an apprentice" she looked at him with the eyes of a young canine pleading for caresses.

T'rin suppressed a shudder.

He hated having to deal with hopeful harpers who had an exaggerated idea of their own ability. Yet she had said 'it was suggested'; and presumably by someone in the Weyr. J'nara would have talked to him first, and asked him to listen covertly if she felt her sister could well do with training; the sensitive Green Rider would not raise anyone's hopes. One of his own apprentices would surely have spoken first to him too. Therefore the person who had made the suggestion was untrained; and either had a good ear but no desire to be a harper themselves, or had no ear and spoke to flatter. Or maybe, he reflected wryl, wanted the girl provided with a skill to keep her out from underfoot.

In the last, T'rin was partially correct; the suggestion had come from Elexa, who, as a Ranking Lady had received rudimentary musical training, enough to recognise some talent in Caralara; and who felt the girl would be more comfortable having a profession, and would them be tired enough not to talk the rest of the candidates half _Between_!

T'rin nodded to Caralara. He could scarcely refuse to hear her at least.

"Very well" he said, stifling a deep sigh. "Bring any instruments you own to the Harperweyr teaching room after your afternoon duties."

He could see by her look – and the fact that she was carrying some awful travesty of a gitar – that she had hoped to be tested right away. But if SHE had no duties, he, T'rin did!


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

T'rin was not looking forward to testing Caralara. If he had to tell the girl she was no good, and the girl cried on her sister's shoulder, that would upset his gentle clutchmate. T'rin took his nervousness over the anticipated encounter – far more fearsome than the thought of fighting Thread – to a bottle of Benden Red, and sank quite half of it for the false courage over what might prove an ordeal! The young man had never felt any need to so bolster himself before walking sweep against Thread; it was upsetting people that caused his problems. He might wear an air of insouciance; but he was sensitive enough to really care about hurting people! He carefully rehearsed phrases like 'better to keep music as a hobby' and addressed several kindly but non-committal remarks to his bottle by way of practice.

Caralara was prompt; and T'rin nodded approval of that. He made her sing scales, major and minor; to tell him intervals; and to play several simple songs on her horrible gitar.

The chording she chose was simple; but reasonable. And if the gitar was fractionally off tune, T'rin – gritting his teeth at the discord – suspected that it was the deficiencies of the instrument rather than the girl's inability to tune it. She seemed capable of pitching well enough: and if she was no Menolly she had a pretty voice that would benefit from training and was as good as many a male apprentice that did adequately in the Harper Hall. It was not, after all, given to everyone to have perfect pitch. Caralara could be trained to be an adequate entertainer, and to teach the young; and as she had shown an interest in her sister's passion for logicating, why, harpers served in many capacities!

"So, am I good enough?" she broke in on his reverie.

T'rin frowned authoritatively.

"A would-be apprentice speaks when spoken to" he told her. She was effervescent; and as such must needs not be permitted to go too far. Easier to lighten than to tighten, as T'lana and R'gar often said. He added, "If you intend to chatter like a weesweet in season, I can teach you nothing, even were you as good as Menolly; which I hope you have the wit to realise you are not. If I take you on, you'll keep your mouth shut in class save to sing or to ask or answer questions; and you'll accept that there are those younger ones who are both more talented and more advanced than you. Can you meet those conditions?"

The girl gave an eager nod.

"Yes sir" she said simply.

T'rin was delighted that she had felt no need to qualify her acceptance.

In point of fact, Caralara had wanted to say more; but was prudent enough to realise it would spoil her chances!

"Very well, apprentice" he said. He grimaced: the subject had to be tackled. "Your gitar – did you make it?"

The girl shook her head.

"No, sir, I'm afraid I only bought it at a Gather. It was the finest I could afford, isn't it pretty?" her voice faltered at the end and she subsided as she noticed T'rin scowling ferociously.

"When you have the chance" said the young journeyman, choosing his words carefully "To play on a musical instrument, not a poorly-crafted gee-gaw like that, you will find it both easier to tune and to play and vastly improved in sound. Had you made it I should have tried to be kind. But it is" his tone was scathing "A travesty. The tone is poor, the tuning awkward and the decoration gaudy but ill executed. Do not, I pray you, show it to H'llon; he'll want to scrag anyone who made such, for so ill-using wood" he tried to look reassuring. "I will teach you how to CRAFT instruments that sound like such. Not….fairings!" the word was an insult. "And you shall make marks for yourself by selling such too when you are competent" he told her kindly. "Marks for yourself – and if you desire for the waifs and strays High Reaches supports that no-one else wants."

She looked surprised but eager.

"The Harpers raise marks for them?" she asked.

T'rin nodded.

"Apprenice Horgey, being crippled himself, spends most of his time making instruments, simple ones such as anyone can play that sell best, though he's competent enough at more complex work. He can help me show you simple techniques" he said. "Report for class tomorrow!" it was a dismissal.

Caralara grinned irrepresively, already recovering from her horror over his description of her instrument, filled with pleasure at the thought of learning to make one that would be easier to play! She ran off.

Horgey was like to make Journeyman soon too, reflected T'rin, for his untiring help with teaching the basics and his help showing harper basics too to the untrained apprentices. And not least his insistence that the instruments he crafted be sold for the benefit of other children in need – and his firmly held belief that if someone like the High Reaches logicators had existed when he was growing up they would have rescued him. They might too have done so, reflected T'rin. It was what logicators – indeed dragonriders – were all about; and the people of the High Reaches were beginning to realise it and come forward with their woes and problems. For Horgey's new unselfishness, T'rin had extracted a tithing from all the boy's profits and set them aside to hold for Horgey himself; for the young journeyman was determined that Horgey should have a store of marks when – and T'rin felt that it would be when – he returned to finish his training at the Harper Hall.

He had little time to ruminate; for Imbelinne came in with a message from R'gar that he was ready, if the Journeyman would care to find time to come, to run through formation flying with him and the two minebred lovers, B'lan and D'nor.

T'rin murmured apologies to the Weyrlingmaster when he reached the Bowl and felt he got off lightly to receive merely a disapproving grunt from his much-admired foster father. R'gar was harder on T'rin than on others of his clutch – because he was fond of the youth!

T'rin enyoyed working with B'lan and D'nor. They were steadier lovers than some, and B'lan was never as hysterical as some Green Riders could be. Leviath was a large beast, and T'rin sometimes wondered privately if she carried some characteristics of a Queen, though not as pronounced as the greenish-gold sport Mirrith, acknowledged by a queen by everyone now, especially since she had laid a perfectly normal and fertile Queen egg. Leviath was as large as, or slightly larger than his own blue Renpeth; who was large as Blues went. It was well D'nor had Impressed brown Chereth: none of the blues had a chance of catching Leviath when she rose, and many Brown Riders would inhibit their dragons by their own heterosexuality. T'rin got on well with these lovers, who had helped to build the Harperweyr complex, and never felt uncomfortable around them. As T'rin was always on demand from the Weyr females for his own unerring taste he acknowledged to himself that, whilst he preferred women, he had a strongly feminine side, probably developed from the necessary closeness between him and his sister when they lived Holdless and he had to help her so much. If he but knew it, it was one of the things that attracted women to him!

The practice went well; T'rin, D'nor and B'lan worked well together. Both miners liked T'rin: he was a journeyman like B'lan, and D'nor had been a senior apprentice, almost a journeyman himself. T'rin was no threat to their relationship, liking only women, but was friendly with them both. Even in weyrs where such things were accepted, some heterosexual riders were uncomfortable around the homosexual ones!

This group did more complex formation work than their fellows; T'lana had expressed an interest in adding Leviath to the Queens' Wing for her strength and stamina; and te group was practising new tactics as protectors of the growing number of female Green Riders. The Green Riders in the Queens' Wing must, of necessity, change halfway through a sweep, owing to their lower strength and stamina; and R'gar wanted certain groups attached to the Queens' Wing able to protect the second group of arriving Greens as they emerged from _Between_, the point at which any dragon was most vulnerable to Thread. He picked Leviath for her size, Chereth for the closeness between both riders and dragons, Renpeth for his strength for his colour; and he had been influenced on the choices to by the steadiness of the riders. Large, strong dragons were required for the main fighting wings, and even so risks were taken by swopping in Greens half way through. If all went well with the Queens' Wing, R'gar hoped to extend the strategy by utilising steady Brown and Blue Riders in a protection wing. People like K'shon from Ista Weyr who had transferred with some radical ideas of his own – and who could sense where other dragons were precisely. T'rin was privy to his foster father's ideas and enthusiastically endorsed them, cheerfully learning extra patterns as well as the ones he learned generally with his clutch mates.

And if, as seemed likely from what D're said - and he could sense the colours of eggs after all – that a significant number of female candidates Impressed, it was the more necessary. Knowing that their daughters would fly protected in the Queens' Wing was one of the deciding factors for many in permitting their daughters to come to try for green eggs!

The Harperweyr was itself responsible for bringing in one of the candidates; L'gal had taken T'arla to find her kin to disseminate the knowledge that the Weyr would take Holdless orphans or unwanted infants where they had discovered someone they considered eminently suitable as a candidate. Chavul, a fourteen turn old tinker of T'arla's family had steadfastly held his hand in fire to burn out Thread that had dove deep, leaving the hand virtually useless. Such bravery in the face of Thread seemed to the riders to be an excellent sign, and when they got him back to the Weyr, L'gal asked R'cal for a firelizard egg to give the lad extra manipulation. R'cal got D're to pick a bronze, for bronze firelizards were acknowledged as more intelligent and trainable. Chavul fought back tears of happiness at his cousin's and her friends' kindness! T'arla had promised that he should stay in the weyr whether he Impressed or not - for he could not earn his way Holdless, as her uncle had said when first they found out about Chavul – since it was the very thing High Reaches had set itself out to do in any case, and since he could pass on his skills as a tinker as well as add his observations to the logicators.

Chavul had never thought that so dire an injury could bring so much happiness! He doubted that his cousin and her lover were right about his worthiness to ride a dragon; but he was touched by their faith in him and by their admiration of his steadfast courage. And even if – or when, as he told himself – he did not Impress, they felt he still had useful skills and would not be a drone as he would to his own immediate family!

As it happened, of the fifteen green eggs, ten were Impressed by female candidates!

The hatching started with drama, a candidate for the Queen egg actually attacking the favourite to Impress her, Zaira. T'rin was not the only one to rise crying out in indignation; but Impression had already taken place, and with poor Z'ira unconscious on the sands, little Tiabeth seemed set to produce her own revenge. Big H'llon, Z'ira's weyrmate, hooked the culprit, Lasolly, out of the sands and to safety; and T'rin chuckled to himself

"Out of the frying pan into the fire!"

He noticed H'llon shaking the girl like a dish clout as the oldest candidate, Elexa, Impressed the largest green – and another it was that had a goldish cast.

"Best not advertise THAT" murmured L'gal "We'll have comments about Segrith producing too many sports!"

T'rin snorted.

"Fardles. Mirrith lays perfectly normal eggs. Leviath won't breed for chewing firestone; Denth isn't Segrith's anyway – though I wager any who would comment will conveniently forget that – and Warneth saved our Sh'allen's sanity. L'exa has the attitude to carry off being peculiar, even if her dragon doesn't lay full Queen-type clutches. And it'll help the strength of the Women's Wing."

L'gal grinned.

"Of course you're not partisan because Mirrith is ridden by your foster mother and her daughter by your sister…."

"Of course I'm fardling well partisan!" scoffed T'rin "Why shouldn't I be? Solpeth is Mirrith's son and Frith her granddaughter as Renpeth is her grandson. You should be partisan too!"

L'gal held up his hands, laughing, then pointed at the sands.

"Look – that little Green is going to Imbelinne!"

Speechless with joy, each re-living his own Impression, the Journeymen harpers saw two of their apprentices Impress; I'linne and – to T'rin's surprise – C'lara. Jaysen showed no signs of disappointment: and as he put all the hours he could into his music, T'rin was not surprised.

That two logicator protégés, J'leth and Ch'vul also Impressed was a bonus! L'gal yodelled happily like a seabred man – having pestered Y'lara to teach him how – when Ch'vul Impressed Bronze Kordath, for as T'arla's cousin, L'gal looked on him as kin. J'leth was delighted with Blue Mnanth too! T'arla's other protégé, Siselly, from L'gal's own Hold failed to Impress; and L'gal was not surprised. However, she was but young: and both Harpers were gratified to find that she had subsequently approached Allessa about working as the Harper Headwoman's assisitant.

All in all it had gone well; and if the studies of two apprentices were to be disrupted at least their dragonriding teachers would be flexible because of it!

T'rin was delighted.

The Harperweyr of High Reaches was doing just fine!

**The End**

_'Horgey Makes Good' follows this but there are a couple of other parallels to go up first__; New Girls at High Reaches Weyr and Kaili the Whisperer_**  
**


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